


Starting Over

by aramelly



Series: Second Chances [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: (as if that's a bad thing), Abuse of italics, Anal Sex, Bill eats meat, Bisexual Stan Pines, Blowjobs, Bottom Dipper, Bottoming from the Top, Boyfriends, Buzzed Driving, Canon Divergence, Coming Inside, Completed, Cuddling, Dancing, Dipper is a closeted bisexual, Dirty Talk, Doritos - Freeform, Drunk Driving, F/M, Family Drama, Felching, First Time, Five years post-Weirdmageddon, Grunkle Stan provides comic relief, Homophobic Language, Human Bill Cipher, Humor, I don't even know what these tags are anymore, Interrupted Sex, Kissing, Lots of sexual content, Love, M/M, Mabel is very much her lovable childlike self, Major Amnesia, Masturbation, Mentions of hell, No pun intended, Not vegan friendly I guess?, Older Dipper Pines, Older Mabel Pines, Pining, Rimming, Secretive Dipper, Some Fluff, THE KITCHEN TABLE HAS SEEN THINGS IT WAS NEVER MEANT TO SEE, Tattooed Dipper, Teasing, Top Bill, Underage Drinking, bareback, disapproving Grunkles, just in an adult form lol, just the usual demon stuff lol, making out in the woods, mentions of Durland/Blubs, mentions of drug use, mentions of eating people, mentions of gross feet, misuse of semicolons, playful banter, sexual chip-eating, sexy shower time, there's a lot of food/eating in this fanfic I just realized, things get complicated, wedding stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-02-04 18:23:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 61,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18609994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aramelly/pseuds/aramelly
Summary: Five years post-Weirdmageddon, Dipper and Mabel return to Gravity Falls for one last summer before college starts.  Their plans are thrown off course by the arrival of a mysterious stranger and events they could have never predicted.  It’s going to be a summer they will never forget.





	1. A Family Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> First I wanna say that I have no idea if something like this has been done before, so apologies if it comes off as cliche or overdone. I just really wanted to write a Billdip fic and this little plot bunny popped into my head. Also I'm not used to writing stories with multiple chapters so I hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> (I'd also like to apologize for any out of character moments. This is my first time writing anything Gravity Falls related, so go easy on me?)

Dipper peered out the window and watched as the landscape rushed by in a blur of colors.  Despite the fact that it all looked identical, he somehow knew they had almost reached their destination.  He couldn’t hide the smile blossoming on his face as he thought about everything this summer would entail. It was the sixth year the Pines twins were spending in Gravity Falls, and both were eager to reunite with old friends and Grunkles alike.

Mabel was slumped against his arm, snoring softly.  She’d fallen quiet about an hour ago after tucking a long knitted cloth into her messenger bag and proclaiming that she was “sooooo _boredddd"._   He couldn’t fault her - the five-hundred-something mile bus trip from Piedmont was draining and their asses were always sore and numb afterwards.  They’d tried begging their parents to let them drive up and back again at the end of summer, but they’d been met with disapproving looks and excuses why it wasn’t a good idea.   _Insurance reasons, you’d save on gas costs, it’s just easier to buy two bus tickets, okay?_

It wasn’t that they didn’t trust their children, but those protective instincts still hadn’t faded despite the twins turning eighteen last year.  Their parents realized they were no longer the naive twelve-year-olds they’d been so many summers ago, yet sometimes they had a hard time facing the fact they’d matured significantly.  Well, despite Mabel still watching cartoons on Saturday morning and sleeping with one of her favorite stuffed animals. The Pines twins had earned their driver’s licenses, gone to prom, and graduated from Piedmont High School a few weeks prior.  

Even though they should’ve been preparing for college starting in the fall, neither was ready to focus on that just yet.  They were determined to hold on to summer while they could and make as many memories as possible. It was likely that this year would be the last time they visited the town they both loved so much.  At least for a while. Next year they’d have to pick up summer jobs to start contributing towards college tuition costs. Their parents had agreed to pay part of it, but two kids in university would place an immense strain on their already modest financial situation.  

Dipper chewed on his lower lip as he turned his gaze to Mabel, her mint green sweater rising and falling with each shallow breath.  She was always so peaceful and optimistic, seeming to glide through life with a smile. He, however, was constantly anxious and worried about what the future would hold.  Case in point, the thoughts that were being conjured up as the bus hit some uneven patches in the road: they were about the same age Ford and Stan had been when their relationship began to crack and blister.  Dipper often fretted over the idea that it could easily happen to himself and Mabel.

Picturing themselves in their great uncles’ places caused his stomach to plunge, akin to the feeling of a plummeting rollercoaster.  He never wanted to become a bitter old man, wondering what had become of Mabel’s life. He wanted to stand by her side and offer unconditional support wherever their paths would lead them.  

He swore he’d never leave, no matter how bumpy the road became.

The bus began to gradually slow as it reached its final destination.  The landscape no longer sped by dizzyingly outside the window. “Gravity Falls,” the driver announced, the bus doors opening with a resounding _hiss_.  

“Hey, Mabes, wake up,” Dipper patted his sister’s shoulder.  “This is our stop.”

She rubbed her eyes groggily and blinked as she took in their surroundings. “Huh?  We’re - are we here?”

“Yep,” he smiled softly.  

“Oh my gosh, we’re here!” She exclaimed, leaping up out of her seat.  “Come on, Dip!”

Dipper huffed out a laugh as his sister went from zero to a hundred in a matter of milliseconds.  He gathered up his belongings and took one last glance out of the window he’d occupied for the past ten or so hours.  Stan and Ford were standing by the side of the road holding a neon orange poster board with the words “Welcome Back!” written in large blocky lettering.

As soon as her foot left the last step, Mabel flung her bags to the ground and rushed towards the two men, hugging each of them in turn.  “Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford! We missed you so much!”

A chuckle came from the man in the suit and fez.  “We missed you too, pumpkin,” Stanley smiled, cradling Mabel in a tight embrace.  “It’s so good to see you again.”

Dipper thanked the driver as he trailed behind Mabel and watched as the bus pulled away down the road, disappearing around a bend.  He turned to face the mini reunion that was taking place and greeted his great uncles before they switched positions, Ford embracing Mabel and Stan hugging Dipper.  Years ago, Dipper would’ve been shocked by this, but over the course of their first summer in Gravity Falls, Stan had softened considerably towards the siblings. _Guess sometimes it takes an apocalypse to bring people closer._ He laughed out loud as the thought crossed his mind, but Stan mistook it as Dipper simply being elated to see his distant family again.

After the brief greetings, Ford and Stan began loading the twins’ bags into the trunk of Stan’s 1965 El Diablo convertible.  “You mean this thing still works?” Dipper asked incredulously. After all the hell Stan had put it through over the years, it was a surprise the thing even turned on.  

“Sure does!” Stan chirped.  He patted the red exterior lovingly before they all climbed in and buckled up.  Despite living recklessly for most of his life, Grunkle Stan was a stickler for seatbelts and ensured that the car would go nowhere until everyone was strapped in.

Suddenly Mabel piped up.  “But wouldn’t you rather have a new model?” She traced a finger over the manual window crank before twisting it to crack the window slightly.  A cool breeze filled the car, carrying the earthy scent of the forest with it. It was so nice to breathe in the fresh air after being crammed on a stale old bus for almost half a day.

“I’ve offered to buy him a new one thousands of times,” Ford interjected from the passenger side of the bench seat.

Stan rolled his eyes as they drove further into the woods.  “Yeah, but that costs _money_ ,” he retorted gruffly, as though Ford were an absolute idiot despite his twelve Ph.D.’s. For all of the book smarts his brother had, he certainly lacked common sense.  Maybe Ford hadn’t had to scrape by in life, being gifted with all of those scientific grants, but Stan recognized the value of a dollar and made every penny count.

Good ol’ Grunkle Stan, still as stingy as ever.  

“ _Everything_ costs money, Stanley,” Ford sighed, exasperated as though they’d had this same conversation a hundred times before.

“Not when you’re me, it doesn’t!  Besides, there’s nothin’ wrong with my car.”

Mabel and Dipper glanced at each other and bit back their laughter as the brothers bickered.  Ford was making valid, logical points and explaining the reasoning behind them, but the other just made half-assed retorts and didn’t let up until he’d gotten the final word in.

Some things would never change.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Stan maneuvered the convertible across the gravel parking lot of the Mystery Shack.  The tires crunched against the uneven earth and kicked up tiny stones that ricocheted against the car’s glossy red finish.  They came to a halt in front of the large A-frame cabin standing tall and proud within the trees - the place they’d call home again for the next three months.  

It was just as tacky and wonderful as ever.

As beautiful as the building was, the twins felt their hearts leap at the sight of the figures waiting for them on the front porch.  The tiny sounds escaping her lips meant Mabel was on the verge of squealing out loud. She’d already unbuckled her seatbelt and was scrambling for the door handle like a wild animal eager to escape its confines.

Her palpable excitement was utterly endearing to everyone in the car.  “Go on, we’ll get your stuff,” Stan said, waving the teens off dismissively.  He couldn’t help but smile.

It was good to have them back.  

Mabel shot out of the car faster than a pressurized bottle rocket.  She nearly tackled Soos to the ground with a shout of his name. Soos’ widespread arms latched around her back as he rocked Mabel from side to side.  “Dudes, it’s so good to see yous again!” he exclaimed as Dipper made his way up the front steps with a smile.

His eyes fell on the woman standing next to Soos, freckled nose and green eyes crinkling as she laughed and scooped Dipper into her arms.  “Oh my God, it’s been so long!”

Dipper relaxed against her shoulder as the scent of her green apple hair conditioner flooded his nostrils.  Six years ago he would’ve given his life to hold Wendy like this, close against his body with her heartbeat next to his.  Time had cooled the burning fire he’d once felt for her, reducing it to embers. At one point she’d been his boyhood crush; the girl he could never get out of his head before he fell asleep at night.  Now he viewed her as somewhat of a sisterly figure, all feelings of lust and desire fading into ones of familial love and admiration.

“Look at you two, all grown up,” Wendy said, pulling back to scan Dipper and Mabel’s faces.  “I can’t believe you’re going to be nineteen this year! Damn, I feel so old now.” She rubbed her arm and smiled meekly.  

“Not as old as Stan and Ford,” Mabel winked, grabbing the redhead and pulling her into a hug of her own.  

“Hey, I heard that,” Stan teased, nudging past Mabel with a smile as he carried two suitcases into the house.  The brunette fired a finger gun at her uncle and he returned it with one of his own before disappearing deeper inside.  

“So,” Dipper began, clearing his throat, “how are things with you guys?”

Wendy and Soos both shrugged in an nonchalant fashion.  “Same old, same old,” she said.

“Yeah, we’d much rather hear about what you guys have been up to,” Soos grinned, ushering the twins inside.  The four pulled up chairs and sat around the dining table as they’d done for so many years. Ford and Stan joined them as Dipper was in the middle of telling a story about how he and Mabel had almost been late to their high school graduation.  The Grunkles passed around cold cans of Pitt cola as the boy regaled them with stories over the past year.

“That’s a pretty good one, kid,” Stan smirked as Dipper concluded his tale.  “But I’ve got an even better yarn to spin. While you were gone, me and Ford here decided to try our hand at alpine skiing.”

“No! Don’t tell them about that, Stanley,” Ford groaned.  He cradled his head in his hands, thoroughly embarrassed by his brother’s choice of recollections.  There were plenty of other stories he could’ve told, especially about their adventures at sea and all of the weird creatures and mystifying phenomena they’d experienced in that time.

But nope, he just _had_ to go there. Everyone was going to hear about how he’d face-planted twice and crashed into a tree.

By the end of Stan’s recollection, everyone at the table was in stitches, clutching their stomachs and wailing with laughter. Even then, Ford had to admit that it _was_ a pretty funny story.  “Oh man, I wish you kids could’ve seen it.  The one time I regretted not owning a video camera,” Stan chortled.

Dipper wiped tears from his eyes, the kind that inadvertently found themselves trailing down one’s face after a hysterical fit of laughter.  A genuine smile and a contented sigh followed as he took in the sight of his friends and family gathered together again. It was good to be back.  

As they all rode high on caffeine and cheerful conversation, none of them had any idea that this summer was going to be drastically different from anything they could ever imagine.


	2. Something Strange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Chapter 2 as promised <3 I combined it with (what I thought would be) Chapter 3 since it was simply too short to be acceptable. So it's a bit longer than initially intended!
> 
> This is where the E rating starts to apply so shield your eyes children!

The attic was just the way it had always been, minus a thin layer of dust that had gathered on the wooden surfaces.  Posters were still plastered to the vaulted ceiling beside Mabel’s bed even though she’d outgrown some of the more childish ones.  Aside from a few items being moved around, it was largely the same as when they’d left last summer.

“Sorry you two,” Grunkle Stan apologized.  He eyed a cobweb that had formed on a rafter and was now wavering slightly in the air conditioning.  “Soos was supposed to dust in here before you came but he’s been busy with wedding planning. I keep telling him, ‘Marriage is a trap’, but he gets all googly-eyed when Melody’s around.”  He placed a finger on his chin in thought. “So… pretty much 24/7, now that I think about it.”

“That is so adorable!” Mabel gushed.  She could only dream of someday being as in love as Soos and Melody were.  The idea of a wedding thrilled her and she absolutely could not wait to cry and take pictures and eat a metric ton of cake.     

“Where _is_ Melody? I didn’t see her earlier,” Dipper said, recalling that only Wendy and Soos had greeted them.  It was strange not to see her by Soos’ side, as they were practically attached at the hip after she began working at the Mystery Shack so many years ago.  

“Portland.  She decided that instead of having a bachelorette party here, she wanted to go on a trip with her friends for the week.  I mean, I would’ve only charged her half of what I charge everyone else to have a party here,” Stan grunted, sounding slightly offended.

Mabel shifted from one foot to the other as she was unable to contain her excitement.  “So, when’s the big day?” Naturally, she was overeager, as if planning for her own marriage.  It made Dipper laugh, the way Mabel twisted herself up in other people’s relationships. She absolutely fit the title of hopeless romantic.  

“‘Bout a month from now.  You’ll have to ask Soos what day it is, I don’t remember.” He waved a hand in the air as if swatting an invisible fly.  “All I know is, there’ll be cake and alcohol, and hopefully some lovely broads to chat up. Ah, ah?” Two hairy eyebrows raised and lowered in quick succession as he nudged Dipper with his elbow.  

 _Or guys,_ Dipper added silently.  He hadn’t told Grunkle Stan about his orientation, much less his own parents.  Even Mabel didn’t know the full extent of it, despite witnessing the way his eyes lingered on the cute coffee shop barista back home for just a beat too long, or how he blushed and fumbled with change at the Piedmont Mall’s food court whenever he had to interact with the cute cashier.  She’d often make a jab at her brother’s nervousness, asking if he had a crush or something. Mabel was only joking of course, but Dipper always swallowed the lump in his throat and feigned laughter. As far as she knew, he was as straight as an arrow. As straight as a pin. 100% straight.

_More like 100% lies._

Mabel playfully punched the older man’s arm. “Grunkle Staaaannn.”

“What?” he asked, sheepishly.  “I’m single and ready to mingle!”

Dipper rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “Just don’t overdo it with the alcohol this time, okay? Remember what happened two years ago?”

“Pfft. Just ‘cause I had one too many beers and ripped my clothes off doesn’t mean I deserve to be banned from the bingo hall for life...”  He then quickly added, albeit in a quieter tone, “but seriously, that was a fun night.”

A voice traveled up the attic stairs, breaking their conversation.  “Children - or should I say, twins and Man-child - come on down and eat.  The pizza’s here if you’re hungry.”

“ _Neh neh, man-child,_ very funny, Ford,” Stan mocked sarcastically.  But Ford had already retreated and his brother’s comment fell on deaf ears.  He sighed and turned to the teenagers, jerking a thumb in the direction of the stairs.  “Come on, let’s go stuff ourselves until we feel like blowing chunks all over my annoying brother.”

* * *

After dinner, Mabel retreated up to the attic bedroom to start unpacking the (seemingly endless) pile of clothing from her bursting suitcase.  Dipper decided he’d unpack later - after all, he probably only had a third of the items Mabel had brought - and found himself wandering outside into the cool night air.  A vast field of stars blinked overhead, their beauty unhindered by street lamps and other common light pollution like in California. The teen found himself mesmerized by the constellations, tracing invisible lines between them like a connect-the-dots puzzle.  Maybe it was the fact that they were responsible for his nickname, but Dipper felt a deep connection to the burning orbs twinkling millions of light years away.

Long moments passed before his neck started to hurt from being craned in an awkward position and Dipper finally made his way towards the woods that lined the property.  Memories came flooding back, all blending together as they surfaced. Countless days and nights were spent exploring them, sometimes with his sister, sometimes without. If he and Mabel ever did get into one of their rare arguments, he usually went on a walk to clear his head and see if he could find some new creature or secret.  The woods were teeming with mystery and that thought was exhilarating to him.

A lively cacophony filled the blackness.  Creatures of the night chirped and sang all around him as he pressed deeper into the thicket. It was peace and solitude in which Dipper found himself lost in thought as he wandered aimlessly in the woods.  He traced a hand along the bark of a tall conifer, the grooves and ridges harsh against his fingers. He found himself wondering how long the tree had remained rooted in this spot. Wondered how much it had seen in in the years it transitioned from a fragile sapling into a wise giant anchored to the earth.  In some ways, it made Dipper jealous. It caused him to yearn for a stable place to plant himself and grow his own roots. He was no longer a child, yet he still had a far ways to go before he reached his full potential.

A soft wind rustled the foliage and tousled his dark curls.  Dipper gave the tree one last thoughtful glance before turning to continue on.  It quickly occurred to him that not far ahead, in a small clearing, a triangular monument stood, covered in moss.  

_Bill._

It had been five years since the demon was cast out of existence with only a stone cold physical reminder left buried in the wilderness.  Dipper wasn’t sure why, but a slight wave of dread churned his stomach as he walked in the direction of the pyramidal shrine. There was almost a sense of duty for Dipper to ensure that it remained untouched aside from birds and insects and various plant life.  

As the beam of his flashlight came to rest in the clearing, Dipper felt like his stomach was going to drop out of his ass.  Fear and panic overwhelmed him as he found a ring of scorched earth encircling the spot where Bill’s statue _should have been._

But the monument itself was nowhere to be found and that could only mean trouble.

* * *

Dipper crashed through the woods as he ran back towards the Shack, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.  “Mabel! _Mabel!_ ” He screamed, bursting through the front door, which caused it to slam against the wall with a loud bang.

“In the living room!” came his sister’s response.  Dipper rushed down the hall, pausing at the threshold and panting as he tried to catch his breath.  It took a minute for Mabel to glance up from where she sat cross-legged on the floor, looking between her knitting needles and whatever show playing was on TV, over to her brother.  “Whoa,” she said, the blue light of the screen casting weird elongated shadows on the wall behind her. “What’s up with you? You look like you saw a ghost or something.” Her eyes suddenly lit up.  “ _Did_ you see a ghost?”

“No, no,” Dipper said, dropping down onto the shag carpet next to his sister.  “It wasn’t a ghost.” He tried to will his breathing to slow but it didn’t do much good.

“What is it then?” Mabel’s worried eyes scanned his panicked face and she lowered her knitting project.  

“It’s… Bill.  Mabel, I think Bill is back.”

The young woman’s face scrunched up, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

“I was walking in the woods,” he hurriedly explained.  His pulse was still racing at a thousand miles a minute as the adrenaline flooded through him full force.  “I came to the area where the statue should be and there were these burn marks...it was so _weird…”_

“But Dipper, it _couldn’t_ be Bill.  You know as well as I do that he turned to stone.”

Dipper squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.  “The statue’s _gone_ , Mabel,” he said with a sigh.  “I looked all over for it.”

“Well maybe you just missed it or something,” she posited, picking up the fabric she’d laid aside when Dipper came crashing through the door.  “I’m sure it’s not what you think it is and you’re just overreacting. Listen, I’ll help you look after _Ducktective_ tonight.  It’s the season 8 premiere!”   

Mabel’s words echoed in Dipper’s head.  Maybe he _was_ overreacting.  He had a tendency to do that, after all.  His anxiety usually stretched logical situations into wild fantasies all spelling out doom.  

After all, weirder things had happened in Gravity Falls.

Mabel hardly seemed concerned by it, so… maybe he should just calm down.  He slumped back against the bottom of the recliner that Grunkle Stan liked to snore in during his afternoon naps and tried to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his mind.     

* * *

“Mabel, _I swear_ it was there,” Dipper pleaded as the two made their way back to the Mystery Shack. _Ducktective_ ended over an hour ago and Mabel finally agreed to accompany her brother into the woods after a small amount of pleading. “Don’t you believe me?”

Mabel turned to face her brother, placing a hand on his arm.  “Okay, listen… I just think maybe you’re feeling a little stressed from the long trip up here… maybe your mind is playing tricks on you, Dip-dop.” She tried to smile reassuringly, her straight white teeth no longer hindered by braces.  “Bill’s gone and that’s that. I mean, it’s been half a decade already, can you believe it?”

Dipper let out a deep sigh.  Mabel, despite clinging to her childlike wonder, still managed to soothe him and offer sound advice.  He closed his eyes and tried to absorb what she was saying, as if it would cement it into reality.

“I love you bro, and I’ll always listen if you’re concerned, but I really don’t think there’s anything to worry ab--”

Suddenly, the sound of crunching leaves made the twins fall silent.  It was unmistakably human - no animal would trod that recklessly through the forest at night.  The siblings exchanged worried glances as they fell into something of a defensive stance. It wouldn’t do much good, as they only had a set of flashlights and their bare hands.

Dipper shouted towards the figure. “Who’s there?!”

A slender male emerged from the woods, one hand pressed to his temple as he groaned.  It was similar to the way someone with an intense migraine would rub the sensitive skin in an attempt to find relief.  His golden eyes fell on the frightened young adults, but instead of malice, they were filled with utter bewilderment. “Where am I?”

The twins ignored his question as Dipper spat one back of his own.  “Who are you?”

The young man stared back at them as if they’d asked him to recite a complex scientific equation from memory.  “Umm...I…I don’t know? At least… I can’t remember....” He trailed off as the pounding in his head intensified.  Whenever he tried to recall, well, _anything_ , the sensations worsened.

“You… can’t remember?” Mabel echoed.  Her entire body relaxed instinctively as she slowly realized this man was most likely harmless.  “Do you know why you were out in the woods at night?”

He shook his head and cupped his chin in his hand, trying to will his memories to return.  It was fruitless and only made him feel even worse. “Sorry, I have no recollection of who I am or how I got here.  I don’t even know my own name…”

Mabel pulled Dipper aside, looking at him questioningly.  “What should we do with him? He’s obviously got amnesia or something…”

Dipper chewed his bottom lip as he ran through several options.  They could leave the weird dude in the forest, but Mabel would undoubtedly protest.  She always insisted on helping people who were in need. Besides, they couldn’t just leave him to wander the woods without seeking some kind of medical care.  Or they could always knock him out and run, but that seemed entirely unwarranted. “I guess we should just bring him back with us. Maybe Ford could figure out a way jog his memory somehow?”

Mabel stepped back and reached for the stranger.  “C’mon, you’re coming with us! We’re going to help you figure everything out.”  She patted his hand in a reassuring manner, a silent way to let him know everything would be okay.  “We’ll take care of you and get you something to eat and introduce you to our Grunkles!”

“...Grunkles?” He blinked at the younger girl but allowed her to pull him along as the three emerged from the forest.

“We’ll explain later,” Dipper said, leading them back in the direction of the Mystery Shack.

* * *

“We just found him in the woods.  He doesn’t remember anything at all,” Dipper concluded.  Ford and Stan glanced from their nephew to the strange man currently seated at the dining table.  Mabel was propped up next to him explaining all about Gravity Falls and how they could show him around town and take him to all of their old haunts.  The man just nodded slowly, trying to process her giddy words. He certainly looked out of place with his two-toned blonde and black hair, tanned skin, and the fancy clothing that made him look like he was ready for a night in Vegas.  

He was definitely not someone you’d expect to see wandering the Oregon wilderness.  

The Grunkles took it all in, dead silent as they mulled over Dipper’s words.  They both had a million questions running through their minds; Ford’s train of thought was directed at uncovering a way to restore the man’s memory, while Stan’s was somewhat less helpful as he pondered how profitable a “Mystery Man” exhibit could be.

It was a long while before Ford finally spoke: “I suppose he could stay in the empty guest room until we figure out what to do with him…”

“Yeah, I guess.”  Stan nodded his agreement.  “Besides, if he tries anything funny, I’ve seen enough martial arts movies to drop kick his ass.” He fell into a ninja pose, or at least how he imagined a ninja would pose, and winked in Dipper’s direction.

Ford stopped himself from facepalming and took a seat at the table across from Mabel and the stranger.  He adjusted his glasses as he took in the man’s appearance. An outfit like that was unusual for today and probably dated back to the 1800’s or thereabouts. Maybe the man was some kind of time traveler?  Or maybe he just had a really weird fashion taste. “I’m not sure what else we can do for you right now other than offer you food and a place to stay,” he said thoughtfully.

“Mi casa es su casa.” Stan patted the newcomer on the back as if he totally hadn’t made a comment five seconds prior about beating him up.  “Just don’t sit in my recliner or touch my cheesy poofs. You can help yourself to anything else in the kitchen but not those.”

The man smiled softly.  “Thank you. I appreciate the kindness you’ve all shown me.  I’m… sorry I can’t remember anything. I don’t want to be a burden…”

“Oh hush!” Mabel chided.  She pushed a finger against his lips to silence him.  “You’re not bothering any of us. We’ve got plenty of space here and me and Dipper can show you around tomorrow.  Right, Dip?”

Dipper hadn’t realized until now that he’d been staring at the man, drinking in his arcane appearance.  His smooth skin and long, dark lashes were undoubtedly attractive, but when those golden eyes fell upon him, Dipper felt his heart skip several beats.  He was suddenly nervous and had to look away to hide his embarrassment. “Yeah, we can do that.”

_Oh my God, he’s so fucking hot._

He quickly cleared his throat and thanked God that no one could read his mind.  “I - uh, I’m going to go unpack and get settled in. I’ll be in the attic if you need me.”  He made a hasty exit, praying that nobody could hear the way his heart thudded out of control and the way his stomach twisted into knots.  

No one seemed to notice anything off about Dipper’s disappearance, too focused on the new guy and offering him slices of reheated pizza and a glass of Pitt cola.

* * *

Dipper fell back against the attic door as it clicked shut.  “What the fuck,” he said aloud, staring up at the vaulted ceiling and dusty rafters.   _You literally just met the guy._   He shook his head at himself and rubbed his face in his hands.  He had a bad habit of falling for people the instant he saw them - the same had happened so many years prior with Wendy and a few other girls in his hometown.  But there was also the cashier at the Orange Julius, the barista dude, one of the jock students in his graduating class… and now this man, who was undoubtedly another of his one-sided secret crushes.  

But oh, the way that he’d looked at him with those caramel orbs…

Dipper hardly realized he was sliding a hand into his boxers until he’d already begun stroking himself to the image of the stranger downstairs.  Everything about him was gorgeous - his eyes, his smile, his voice… Dipper allowed his head to fall back against the wooden door as he closed his eyes and increased his pace.  Sharp sighs escaped his parted lips as he thumbed the head, smearing precum over the swollen flesh. He didn’t know the man’s name, but somehow that made everything more exciting.  Images flashed in his mind’s eye of the mysterious man bending him over the dining room table and fucking him senseless. It would never happen, not in a million years, but he still allowed himself to indulge in the sweet fantasy.  The way the man’s fingers would leave purple bruises as he gripped his hips and had his way with Dipper.

Soft moans filled the attic as Dipper felt the coil in his gut beginning to tighten.  He was quickly peaking and all it took was one last thought of the man coming deep inside of him for Dipper to spill his seed.  He slumped against the door, sliding down it as he panted heavily. His head was swimming as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Eventually, after a few moments of sitting on the floor, Dipper collected himself and stood up on shaky legs.  He grabbed a tissue and cleaned himself off and moved over to his mattress. On top of it was his suitcase, still untouched from their arrival earlier that morning.  

He snapped open the clasp and began transferring clothes into the old dresser in the corner of the room.  Mabel had already claimed the top two drawers for herself, so he knelt down and filled the remaining two with t-shirts and jeans and clean underwear.

It was only when the suitcase was tucked away under the bed that he suddenly realized how tired he felt.  Today had seemed to stretch on forever. Looking at his phone, he found that it was quickly approaching two in the morning.

He peeled off his soiled clothing and changed into a pair of pajamas that smelled like the fabric softener his mom used.  It was comforting and he found his eyes quickly drooping. Within a few minutes of crawling under the covers, Dipper was fast asleep and dreaming of what the summer would hold.


	3. The Bucket List

A loud ringing jolted Dipper awake.  He shot upright in bed, confused by his surroundings for a moment.  This wasn’t his room back in Piedmont and this wasn’t his queen sized bed with a memory foam topper.  The twin mattress was far less comfortable, the fabric worn away in spots to expose outlines of metal springs.  He largely doubted that Stan would’ve replaced the beds since last summer, despite the fact that their age was starting to show.  

The blaring noise that had so rudely awakened him was emanating from Mabel’s cell phone.  She must’ve set an alarm when she crawled into bed last night, whatever time that might have been.  The obnoxious sound was having no effect on her, however, as she continued to snore through it.

Dipper groaned and peeled himself out of bed, plodding across the hardwood to silence the sound.  He grabbed Mabel’s white iPhone (complete with glittery unicorn case) and tapped “STOP” to disable the alarm.  The attic was once again peaceful, but now Dipper was awake and slightly annoyed.

“Mabel,” he poked her side.  “Wake up.”

She grunted dismissively in her sleep and rolled on her side, away from Dipper as she faced the wall.

A sigh of exasperation came before he decided to poke her harder in the shoulder blade.

“Ow!” She grumbled and sat up, rubbing her back through the gray t-shirt she was wearing to sleep in.  “What was that for?”

He motioned towards the phone still in his hand.  “You had an alarm set.”

Mabel’s eyes instantly went from tired to cheerful.  “Yes!” She scrambled to pick up a piece of folded stationary on the nightstand.  “I made a list last night! Well, a bucket list to be more specific.” She unfolded the light blue page and held it up for Dipper to see.  “This summer I want to do as many of these things as possible!”

Dipper set her phone down and took the paper, scanning the bullet points.  It was mostly traditional summer activities, like going swimming and gorging themselves on sugary snacks.  He cocked an eyebrow as he reached the bottom of the list where Mabel had doodled cartoonish hearts of varying sizes.  “Summer love?”

“Of course, Dipper!” The brunette sprawled across her mattress with a dopey grin on her face.  “The quintessential summer _has_ to include a cute guy!  It’d be criminal if it didn’t!”

The mysterious man flashed across his mind, as well as the memory of jerking off to him yesterday.  Dipper tried to shield his blushing face with the paper but Mabel hadn’t noticed anyway. She was lost in her own fantasy of the perfect summer romance.  

“Anyway,” she leapt to her feet, “I wanna start the list today.  I thought we could take our new friend around town and maybe get slushies or something!”  She cheerfully made her way over to their shared dresser and began pulling out various tops and skirts, matching them against each other to try and figure out which combination looked cutest.

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck.  He hated to admit how his heart did a little “!” whenever the stranger was brought up.  “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.” He tried to put thoughts of the man out of his mind.  Dipper forced himself to instead focus on having a good day with his sister, exploring the town they both loved so much.

“This’ll work,” Mabel nodded to herself.  She paired a blue and white striped off-the-shoulder top with a denim mini skirt and then busied herself with finding some adorable accessories to match.

Dipper was hardly as picky.  He threw on a black NASA tee and a pair of jeans, deciding it was good enough.  As Mabel left the room to get ready, he also pulled on an unbuttoned red flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  It showed off the sleeve tattoos he’d gotten late last year, mostly comprised of symbols and images from Ford’s journals.

When he was finished getting dressed, Dipper made his way down to the kitchen to look for breakfast.  He busied himself by digging through the pantry and cabinets, trying to decide between cereal brands. The sound of voices made him pause and he set the boxes of Frosted Flakes and Cinnamon Toast Crunch down on the counter.  He could hear Ford’s hearty laugh and he poked his head around the corner to find his uncle and the newcomer engaged in conversation.

Dipper hardly heard what was said, his brown eyes locking on the outfit the man was wearing.  Somehow he’d gotten ahold of Dipper’s own sweatpants and t-shirt, but how?

“I let him borrow your clothes last night.”

Dipper almost jumped out of his skin as Mabel suddenly appeared behind him.  “Y-you what?”

“Yeah,” Mabel shrugged.  She was nonchalant as she continued, “I went to ask you if it was okay but you were already asleep.  So I found some pajamas for him.”

“Oh.”  He drank in the way his clothing hung on that lithe body and decided he couldn't be mad at Mabel.  “That’s... fine.”

It was certainly _way more_ than just fine.

The young woman glanced at the counter, spying the two cereals Dipper had narrowed it down to.  “Hey, you weren’t going to spoil my plans for breakfast, were you?”

He focused his attention back on Mabel who was pouting playfully at him.  “What plans?”

“We’re gonna go to Greasy’s Diner and have pancakes just like we do every year, silly.  Did you actually forget?”

Well, he’d certainly been distracted lately…

Mabel didn’t wait for a response as she began tugging Dipper out of the kitchen.  She inserted herself into the conversation the older men had been having. It had probably been something boring and science-y anyway.  “Hey New Guy,” she waved. Ford and the blonde turned to face the twins. “We’re gonna take you out for breakfast and show you around Gravity Falls.  You wanna come along, Grunkle Ford?”

“Sorry, Mabel.  I’ve got research to attend to.”  Of course, _boring old Ford._ “But feel free to come and go as you please.  Don’t let this old geezer stop you.”

Mabel hugged him tightly.  “kay. Try not to die of boredom while we’re gone.”

“I’ll see the three of you later,” Ford said.  He walked away before turning to add, “and scientific study is hardly boring, my dear.”

“Whatever you say.”  She shrugged as Ford left and focused her sights on the mystery man.  “I’ll go get you more of Dipper’s clothes to wear so you can get changed.”  She hurried off to the attic to pick something out.

Dipper bit his lip as he dared a look at the guy who already looked amazing in his sweats.  He was kinda getting turned on by the thought of his clothes carrying the man’s scent. It took every ounce of restraint to will away the growing boner in his pants.  

Mabel was inadvertently torturing him now.  

Mystery man’s golden eyes were on him as they stood alone in the hallway.  Dipper held his gaze, feeling goosebumps starting to rise along his arms. No words were exchanged between them, but the silence spoke volumes.  Desire twisted Dipper’s gut as the physical attraction deepened. They’d hardly said a word to each other since they met but somehow it didn’t matter.  There was an underlying electricity that charged the air and crackled to life inside Dipper.

The moment was soon broken as Mabel came darting down the stairs and thrusted a pile of clothes against the man’s chest.  “Here ya go. Go get dressed and we’ll wait for you outside!” She waved him off and led Dipper out into the bright morning light.  Dipper felt breathless as Mabel pulled him down the stairs of the front porch and into the dewy grass.

She adjusted her purse strap and began typing something out on her phone.  Probably a quick text to their parents letting them know everything was alright and they were settling in just fine, and that Ford and Stan were still at each other’s throats, but in a loving, sibling-like way.  

A rust-bucket pick-up truck with plates reading “SUPDAWG?” pulled into the parking lot.  Soos killed the engine and slid out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind him. He lumbered over to the twins, waving a greeting at them as he arrived for work.

Mabel waved back, grinning from ear to ear, a smile so bright it made the sun jealous.

At that moment, the newcomer walked up alongside Dipper and Mabel, looking quizzically at Soos.

“Oh, hey dude.  You new here? Mind if I call you dude?”

Caught off guard he could only manage to say, “Uhm…?” before Soos was speaking again and patting his shoulder.

“Cool, dude.  Where are yous guys heading to?”

Mabel beamed.  “We’re taking our friend to breakfast!”

“Sweeeeet.  Have a good time for me.”  He started walking away but Mabel stopped him.  

“Wait!” This caused Soos to turn to face her.  “When’s the day of the wedding? You didn’t tell us yet!”

“Ohhhh,” Soos smiled.  Thoughts of Melody - beautiful Melody - caused his face to redden.  She was perfect in every way and his heart thumped elatedly. “Sorry about that.  It’s July 14th, a Saturday.”

“Eeee!” Mabel’s excited squee was nothing short of endearing.  “I’ll mark it on my calendar!”

Soos shot dual finger guns her way.  “Looking forward to seeing you there, dawgs.”  He waved once more before entering the Mystery Shack to begin his shift.

Mabel finished making note of the date on her phone and tucked the device into her heart-shaped holographic purse.  “Okay you guys, let’s go get stacked!”

* * *

It was a short walk from the Mystery Shack to the log-shaped railcar-slash-restaurant.  Dipper held one of the glass doors open for his sister and the stranger as they made their way up the front stairs.  “Thanks Dippy-Eggs!” She paraded inside to find them a table.

The man simply stared at Dipper as he followed Mabel, causing a pleasant shiver to race up Dipper’s spine.  He entered the restaurant and trailed behind as the hostess led them to an available booth.

He slid into the seat across from Mabel and the man, realizing that Mabel had only chosen that spot so she could point out different items to him and explain what each name meant.  Dipper watched as the man peered over her shoulder at the laminated menu. Mabel was chatting away and the man was trying to take it all in, which made Dipper chuckle to himself. The poor guy was already confused, and his sister wasn’t making things easier.  

Eventually he said, “I’ll just have what you’re having,” and Dipper wasn’t sure if it was just an excuse to get Mabel to be quiet or because the menu was expansive and overwhelming for anyone unfamiliar with it.  

Lazy Susan exited the kitchen holding a coffee pot as she made her way over to their table.  “Well, well, I was expecting you kids today! It’s so wonderful to see you again.” She poured the steaming beverage into the empty mugs on the table and dispersed them to the three.  “Say, who’s your handsome friend here?”

Mabel wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulder and squished their faces together, an action that seemed to make him feel uncomfortable, but he didn’t speak up about it.  “We just call him New Guy.”

Dipper chewed his lip as Mabel explained how they’d found him in the woods last night and the fact that he couldn’t remember much of anything.  Lazy Susan nodded and smiled, interjecting here and there. “Well, New Guy, welcome to Gravity Falls.” She pulled a pencil and notepad out of her front apron pocket.  “So, what can I get everyone today?”

* * *

Mabel was regaling the boys with stories when Lazy Susan brought out their order: three stacks consisting of five pancakes each.  

“And we’ll show you the arcade and the mall, and town square - thanks Susan! - and then we can get slushies from the mini-mart, and…”

Dipper tuned out as his sister blabbed, drowning her pancakes in maple syrup.  It took a while before she noticed they were now swimming and she set the bottle aside.  Even while chewing, Mabel continued to detail her plans for the day, small bits of pancake occasionally flying across the table at her brother.

New Guy and Dipper both ate in silence, occasionally exchanging looks.  Neither of them said much as Mabel chatted away. Iit was almost as if there was an unspoken conversation taking place between the two men, much like the moment they’d shared earlier this morning.

When the guy was distracted by Mabel, Dipper studied him.  He was older, but not by a huge margin. Maybe mid-twenties, if Dipper had to field a guess.  Almost impossibly attractive to the point of being distracting. _Pretty Boy_ , Grunkle Stan would have called him if he’d been present.

“You okay, Dip? You haven’t said much.”

Dipper snapped out of it as he realized both his sister and the man were looking at him now.  “Uh, yeah, just thinking about how good the food is here.” He sheepishly stuffed a forkful of pancake into his mouth to stop himself from saying something he might regret.

“Okie dokie.”

They all ate quietly for a moment before the man spoke up, poking his fork at the hotcakes on his dish.  “I can’t be sure, but I don’t think I’ve ever had these before.”

“WHAT?!” Mabel slammed her fork down against the table causing nearby customers to glance in her direction.  This caused second-hand embarrassment on Dipper’s behalf as he tried to smile at the other patrons and get them to return to their own meals.  However, Mabel didn’t notice, seeming thoroughly offended by his statement. “You’ve _never_ eaten pancakes?!  What strange place are you even from? Mars?”

He shrugged and laughed, and Dipper looked out the window to keep himself distracted from the man’s gorgeous smile.

“Aw, crap.”  He turned back to see what had upset Mabel.  She was wiping furiously at her shirt, a giant coffee stain marring the striped fabric.  The paper napkins were useless and just seemed to make things worse. “I’m gonna go try to wash this off. ‘Scuse me, gentlemen.”  She nudged New Guy out of the seat and made a beeline for the ladies room.

The man slid back into the booth, picking at his breakfast half-heartedly.  

 _Alone again_ , Dipper gulped, feeling as self-conscious and nervous as ever.  The man looked up and they were staring again, and it was so fucking awkward that Dipper didn’t have time to catch his words before they spilled out.  “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Sorry.”  The man looked away now that he’d been called out.  Dipper felt his cheeks getting warm, wondering where his sudden boldness had come from.  “It’s just…” The golden gaze was upon him once more, “...you seem so… familiar. Like I’ve met you before.  Your sister, too.”

“I’m sure I would’ve remembered you,” Dipper muttered, sucking down large mouthfuls of coffee.  He wasn’t sure if the man had heard his indirect flirtation as no comment was made about it. “Sorry that Mabel’s such a chatterbox.”  Maybe a change of topic would ease his nerves.

New Guy shrugged.  “I don’t mind. She means well.”

_Hm, so he’s polite AND hot.  What a fucking combination._

Dipper’s dick threatened to betray him for the second time that day and it wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet.  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, she’s a good person. Even if it can get a little annoying sometimes.”

“Mm,” New Guy hummed his agreement and sipped coffee from his half-full mug.

A few seconds later, Mabel returned to the table looking defeated.  The stain was a shade lighter but still very obvious. “I’m gonna have to get a new shirt today.”  It was a good excuse to go shopping anyway, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t bum her out a bit.  She fished around in her purse and pulled out several crinkled dollar bills, tossing them onto the tabletop as a tip.  “I’m gonna say goodbye to Susan quick. Do you guys need doggy boxes or anything?”

Both men shook their heads, stuffed and sated.  Leftover pancakes warmed up in the microwave later were nowhere near as good as fresh ones.

“Okay, I’ll meet you outside when I’m done.”  She headed over to the bar counter and Dipper watched as she farewelled Susan with hugs and laughter and showed her pictures on her phone.

He turned back in his seat and saw New Guy holding one of the bills in his hand, looking over it thoughtfully.  Dipper couldn’t tell, but he was staring at the Eye of Providence as though mesmerized by it. Deep within, it stirred some kind of sensation - some kind of vague familiarity that he couldn’t put his finger on.   _Weird._

“Hey, you ready?”

Dipper’s voice caused him to put the money down and smile.  “Yeah, I’m good.” They slid out of the booth and exited the restaurant, momentarily blinded by the bright summer sun.  Mabel joined them a few minutes later and hooked her arms around theirs. “To the mall!” she proclaimed, marching them out of the parking lot and into town.


	4. An Evening Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiling you all with another chapter already because I've been seriously addicted to writing this story!

Dipper was bored as hell and there was no denying that fact as he sat slumped over, chin resting in his hand.  Mabel paraded out of the shop’s dressing room in her - probably 80th - new shirt of the day. She’d dragged them to Forever 21 and insisted they act as an unbiased third party and give her feedback in Candy and Grenda’s steads.  The plastic chairs were hard on their asses and Dipper had forgotten to charge his phone last night before falling asleep. Without electronic distractions, they were forced to become guest judges on Mabel’s very own version of _Project Runway_.   

“Okay, how about this one?” She spun in a circle, much too fast for anyone to assess the piece.  “I’m not sure about the peplum look though.” She studied herself in the full length mirror, making faces and little “hmm” noises.  

New Guy sat back with his arms folded over his chest, slightly bored but nowhere near as badly as Dipper.  

“Mabel, it’s fine, can we go now?” Her little brother groaned, glancing down at the digital watch on his left wrist.  She’d already been at this for an hour and a half and was no closer to making a decision. The store speakers were playing the newest Justin Bieber song for the third time now and the fact that he’d memorized all of the lyrics in the time they’d been sitting there made Dipper want to shove pencils through his eardrums so he’d never hear it again.  

“Ugh, you guys just don’t get it,” she sighed.  This was why she preferred shopping with her girlfriends.  Boys could be such buzzkills sometimes.

“Guess not,” Dipper shrugged.  He’d never understand why women were so indecisive, especially when most of the shirts looked the same, just in different colors.  It only took him an hour total to go clothes shopping, but Mabel could spend a full ten hour day at the mall and still complain that she had nothing to wear.  

“Fine.”  She looked defeated for the second time that day.  “I’ll just try on one more and then we can go.”

Dipper smacked his head back against the wall.  “Ughhhh! Just pick something already!”

Mabel was already gone, changing into her next top and admiring the delicate daisy pattern and taking seventeen selfies to show Candy and Grenda later.

* * *

Decades passed, or so it felt, before Mabel was handing her credit card to the woman at the cash register.  They began a boring conversation about the weather and how opening a store card would get Mabel up to 20% off of her next purchase.

Dipper was feeling antsy, shifting uncomfortably as he mentally willed Mabel to hurry up.  That damn song was starting to play again and he wished now more than ever that he would’ve been born deaf.   

“I like your tattoos.”  Dipper realized that New Guy was eyeing his bare arms, admiring the intricate designs that marked his pale flesh.    

“Oh, um, thanks.”  He held his left arm up for the man to get a better look and yanked his sleeve up higher.  The tattoos ran all the way up to the area where his shoulder joined his torso. It had been kinda painful at the time, but the results made it all worth it.     

“Beautiful.  What do they mean?”

Dipper suddenly felt like a specimen under a microscope and rolled his sleeve back down.  His heart thumped at the word _beautiful_ but he explained that they were symbols from his uncle’s journals, careful to not go into too much detail so that the man didn’t think he was a weirdo or something.

The man nodded, silently tracing the patterns with his gaze.  A triangle with a single eye, wide open, looked back at him. It was inexplicably similar to the one he’d seen on the dollar bill back at Greasy’s Diner.  

“That symbol… it holds a lot of meaning, doesn’t it?” He touched the ink, tracing the triangular lines with his finger tip.  

Dipper nearly shuddered as the man made physical contact with him for the first time.  “Yeah, I’ll tell you about it later.” Mabel was approaching them, gripping three shopping bags in her hand.

“I’m just gonna change into one of my new shirts and then we can continue the tour!”

* * *

The three walked down Main Street as sunset cast golden light across the town, elongating their shadows and making everything seem a little more magical.  They each held a slushy, drinking and talking as they went. Mabel was putting on her best tour guide impersonation as she pointed out certain buildings and landmarks.  

“And here’s the library… and next to it is the hardware store...”

New Guy and Dipper were content to watch and listen as Mabel led the way.  She’d periodically pause to recite a fond memory she had of a place. Dipper knew Mabel was thoroughly enjoying herself and the flickers of nostalgia that were flooding back to her as she sucked her drink loudly.  

“Ooh! The music store! Come on, I wanna see if they have the new Britney Spears album!”  Mabel pushed the door open and a set of jingle bells rang to alert the shop owner to the presence of customers.  “Hey Tony!” She waved and took another giant sip of her slushy. Was there anyone in Gravity Falls that Mabel _wasn’t_ acquainted with?

Dipper scanned over the walls of vinyl records that had recently come back in style.  It was weird to see current artists like Taylor Swift and BTS sitting next to older recordings.  The look on New Guy’s face said that he didn’t recognize a lot of the newer musicians from the past few years, but that changed upon picking up an old Vera Lynn record.  It was a remastered compilation album of her hits from the 1930’s to the late 1950’s. The third song on the list made his breath catch in his throat.

_We’ll meet again_

_Don’t know where, don’t know when…_

A pang of recognition hit him in the gut, the same way he’d felt earlier upon seeing the dollar bill at the diner and Dipper’s tattoos.  He allowed his eyes to drift to the green carpet that was worn thin from years of foot traffic. It was still impossible to place as he had no context go off of; there was simply the notion he’d been connected to these things somehow in the past.  

Dipper smiled.  “Prefer the classics, huh?”

“I think so…” New Guy set the album back on the shelf and stared into the round wall mirror that hung opposite of them.  He didn’t recognize the face that was now his own and that thought was deeply disturbing. It was frustrating not being able to remember who he’d been before and trying only gave him headaches.  

“Hey man, are you okay?”  Dipper rubbed a hand against New Guy’s arm as they looked at their reflections.  The brunette couldn’t help but admit to himself that they’d make a _really_ cute couple, even with the corners of their mouths tinged blue from the frozen drinks they were holding.    

The blonde-and-black-haired man closed his eyes and nodded.  He sighed and Dipper could sense the irritation that radiated off of him.  “I’m sure it’ll come back to you soon,” he tried, still stroking New Guy’s arm and hoping that it at least gave him some semblance of peace.  The skin-to-skin contact was nice to say the least.

New Guy abruptly turned to face Dipper and the teen realized just how close they were standing.  If either leaned forward just a few inches, well… Dipper’s gaze moved from the man’s lips to his eyes as New Guy was now speaking.  “Imagine losing every memory you ever had. Every single instance from childhood with your sister. Imagine not being able to remember your life.”  

Dipper chewed his lower lip as he looked past the man’s shoulder to where Mabel was standing a few yards away.  She’d already located what she came in for and was considering making an impulse purchase now. A pair of white and neon pink headphones had caught her eye and the price was almost too good to pass up.  She was talking to the store owner, the man known as Tony, and telling them about everything she and Dipper had been up to since last summer. The man was nodding and laughing as he rung up her purchase and Mabel passed her credit card over the glass display case as payment for the items.  Everyone in town seemed just as happy to see her as she was to see them.

_Imagine losing every memory you ever had._

Dipper couldn’t begin to imagine how traumatic it would be to forget everything they’d ever been through.  In fact, even considering that caused his heart to seize and ache. He didn’t want to forget all of the memories they’d shared since birth.  Every school lunch and every prank they’d played and even every argument he and Mabel had ever gotten into suddenly felt that much more precious to him.  Life without Mabel was not a life worth living.

“Oh shit, you’re bleeding,” New Guy said, and Dipper pressed his tongue against the open wound.  He hadn’t realized he’d gnawed the sensitive skin of his lower lip to the point where it had torn away and coppery fluid was coating the inside of his mouth.  “What should I do? Am I supposed to call an ambulance or something?”

Dipper almost laughed out loud at that but he was afraid of spraying blood onto the man’s face so he just shook his head.  “It’ll stop soon.” He had experienced this same thing many times before - it was another of his absent minded habits like how he picked at the skin around his fingernails when he felt overwhelmingly uncomfortable.  When the bleeding had slowed considerably he took another drink from the plastic cup and allowed the cold, flavored ice to numb his lip.

New Guy was eyeing him carefully.  “You’re sure you don’t need to seek medical attention?”  The concern in his voice made Dipper want to hug him then and there.

“No, I’m fine.  It happens a lot, actually.”  His parents had sought out therapy sessions and anxiety medication years prior but neither seemed to help very much.  By this point, Dipper was convinced that his nervousness was just another of his personality traits - the same way that Mabel was cheerful and Grunkle Stan was stingy.  

“Bye Tony!” Mabel shouted, waving as she retreated towards the shop’s glass entrance.  She’d added another bag to the collection that already adorned her left arm, an unorthodox trophy that meant she’d had a very successful shopping day (even if Dipper and New Guy begged to differ).

They disposed of their empty drink containers in a trash bin outside of the store.  Sunset had faded and the sky was transitioning from turquoise to a pretty shade of indigo as the street lights flickered to life.  It was shaping up to be another beautiful night as the stars glimmered faintly above them, stretching for miles across the forested horizon.  They had been walking and talking and enjoying the dusk, when Mabel pointed out that they weren’t far from the new McDonalds on the edge of town.

The mention of food caused Dipper’s stomach to grumble loudly, not unlike a hungry Multi-Bear.  It certainly wasn’t the highest quality, but summer was for inhaling junk food and they hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning.  Pigging out on greasy fast food sounded absolutely incredible.

The restaurant was fairly busy this time of evening, so the three were forced to stand in line for close to twenty minutes while they decided what to order.  Dipper was positive his stomach was going to eat itself if they didn’t get their food soon. When they finally made it to the counter where a young woman waited to take their order, Mabel began spouting off all kinds of items.  “Two double quarter pounders with cheese, a big Mac with no onions, five large fries, a forty piece nugget with some barbecue and ranch sauce - and, oooh, six cookies! And we’ll also have three large drinks!”

Okay, Dipper was starving but _who in the hell_ was going to eat that much food?! The cashier recited the order back to Mabel who nodded in confirmation.  “That’ll be 38.48.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Dipper interjected as Mabel began reaching for her wallet.  He fished two twenties out of his back pocket and handed it to the employee. “You already paid for breakfast and slushies, I got this one.”  

Mabel smiled warmly.  “Thanks bro.”

There was another long wait until their number was called due to the high volume of food they’d ordered.  Once they had three trays in hand, the trio found an empty table next to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows of the building’s facade.  Mabel immediately began dumping all five orders of French fries onto one of the trays and soon amassed a golden potato mountain. It was absolutely absurd but also hilarious because the fries alone probably could’ve sustained a small village.

Dipper patiently waited for Mabel to finish Instagramming their smorgasboard before diving in.  Manners and politeness were forgotten as they all grabbed an item and stuffed their faces. As New Guy bit into his cheeseburger it looked like he’d just had a revelation.  Within seconds he’d devoured the entire thing, leaving Mabel and Dipper gaping at him in shock.

“Okay, seriously, did you ever eat any food at all?” Dipper raised an eyebrow as the blonde grabbed a handful of French fries and shoved them into his mouth like someone lost in the desert who’d just discovered water.   

He chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing the obnoxious amount of fries.  “I think I might’ve enjoyed wine?”

“Jeez. I guess that’s why you’re so skinny,” Mabel teased, poking the man’s rib through Dipper’s red graphic tee.  His gaunt frame supported the idea that he hadn’t partaken in many heavy foods, much less McDonalds, before. Dipper wondered if he had some sort of eating disorder or if he really had just missed out on three square meals per day.  It didn’t detract from his overall appearance, but gaining a few pounds would probably do him some good.

“Don’t worry,” Mabel continued.  “We’ll plump you up in no time.”

* * *

French Fry Mountain had taken a giant hit along with the rest of the food.  In total, one burger, five nuggets, four cookies and half of their tankards of soda remained.  

Mabel groaned and leaned back in her seat.  She tried to suppress a burp but it came out anyway.  “Sorry. Ugh, I’m so full… I never wanna see another fry ever again.”  ‘Regret’ hardly seemed sufficient to convey the second thoughts she was having right now.  It was more like self-loathing and bartering with the heavens to make her stomachache subside.

Nausea was something New Guy never experienced before and it was probably one of the most unpleasant sensations he’d had thus far.  Dipper mirrored the other two as he shoved the remnants into one of the brown paper bags. Ford would undoubtedly lecture them about the health detriment fast food would have on their bodies, but Stan didn’t give a shit - _“My favorite kind of food is free food!”_ \- and he would inhale the leftovers while watching TV.

Everyone came to the agreement that a short rest before they walked back was needed.  Thankfully, Gravity Falls wasn’t a huge town, and it would only take them a half hour to return.  

* * *

The group was straddling the line of “uncomfortably full” and “projectile vomiting” as they waddled back to the Mystery Shack.  Mabel was groaning as she clutched her stomach, having to halt their trek a few times so she could dry heave. Nothing came up but she almost prayed it would so she didn’t feel so miserable.   

As they walked together among the trees, New Guy’s words weighed heavily on Dipper’s mind.  The silence was punctuated by his sister’s sounds of discomfort but it was mostly peaceful and gave him time to reflect on the day.   

_Imagine not being able to remember your life._

He looked over at the blonde and felt a deep sense of sorrow for the man.  He was essentially an empty shell now, stripped of the identity he once had.  It made Dipper wonder who he’d been and what sort of life he’d led. Would he ever regain his memories?  And if so, would it change his perception of the world?

Did he have any family waiting for him?

The Mystery Shack was a sight for sore eyes (and stomachs) as the three climbed the short set of stairs to the porch.  New Guy muttered something about going to his room to lay down and disappeared inside. Once he was inside, Dipper turned to Mabel.  He suddenly embraced her without warning, leaving her to wonder what had gotten into him. “Dipper, what are you --”

“I’m just glad you’re my sister, Mabes.”  He squeezed her tighter, as if his arms would act as a barrier against the trials of the world that sought to separate them permanently.  

“Aw, Dip, that’s so swe--”  Her face suddenly contorted and she wriggled violently from his grasp.  Dipper barely managed to avoid Mabel vomiting all over him as she swerved and puked over the wooden railing.  Instinctually, Dipper pulled the long locks out of her face as her body spasmed over and over again.

“You okay?”

Mabel righted herself and wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve.  It was only a second later that she realized she was wearing a brand new shirt.  “Damn it!” It was rare for Mabel to curse like that but also completely understandable.  This was the second top ruined in only a matter of hours.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”  Dipper led her inside and up to their room, rummaging in the dresser for clean pajamas.  As he looked for something for Mabel to wear, the young woman began wandering off towards the bathroom down the hall.  A hot shower would undoubtedly help her feel better.

After a moment, Dipper knocked on the door and handed her a teal tank top and red lounge pants.  Mabel didn’t have the heart to tell him those colors clashed, so she just accepted the change of clothes and thanked him before locking the door.

While Mabel washed herself off, Dipper wandered downstairs and found Grunkle Stan sitting in the living room.  He tossed the grease-stained leftovers bag in the man’s direction, truly not caring if he caught it or it ended up splattered across the living room wall.

“Hey, thanks kid!” Grunkle Stan grinned, tearing into the food without a moment’s hesitation.  

“Sure thing.”  Dipper began walking down the hallway to prepare for bed.  He had only gone three steps before a blood-curdling scream of his name caused him to fly back into the doorway in a panic.  “Grunkle Stan?! What’s wrong?!”

“Heh, nothin’,” the elder chuckled.  “Just wondered if you’d grab me a soda from the kitchen.”

It was in that moment that Dipper seriously considered strangling the man as he lazed in his recliner.  He pinched his eyes shut and steadied his racing pulse. “Sure, Grunkle Stan.”

“And don’t forget to pour it in a glass with ice!”  Stan shouted with a mouth full of Big Mac.

Dipper rolled his eyes as he pulled a can of Pitt from the fridge.   _Please, just kill me now,_ he pled to whatever deity was listening.


	5. Carnival Kisses and Wedding Bells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd as always so let me know if you find any spelling mistakes!

About a week later, Mabel was acting giddier than usual.  She’d managed to cross a few items off of her bucket list: slushies, bowling, ice cream for dinner, and hanging out at the mall with Candy and Grenda.  

“Tonight’s the carnival, Dipper, aren’t you so excited?” Mabel asked as she bustled around their shared bedroom, trying to decide whether she should wear flats or sneakers.  Eventually she chose the latter, especially if she would be going on rides. Having a shoe fly off would be _totally_ embarrassing and Mabel wasn’t about to be mortified in front of hundreds of people.  

Dipper shrugged.  “Sure, I guess?”

“Oh, at least pretend to be more excited than that.  You used to love carnivals when we were younger. You’ve been so distracted this past week… did someone replace my brother with a robot from outer space?   _Beep bop boop, my - name - is - Dipper_ ,” she said in a stereotypical robotic voice, moving her arms in stiff motions.

That genuinely made him laugh out loud.  “Definitely not a robot, Mabes.”

Mabel was proud that she’d managed to make him smile.  “See, that’s better. Let loose tonight. We’re gonna have fun!” Mabel, Queen of Childlike Escapades, was hardly ever wrong about these sorts of things.

“Okay,” Dipper conceded.  “I’ll try not to be so tense and just enjoy myself.”  He was determined to shed the “stick in the mud” status Mabel had given him earlier that week when he shot down her invitation to go to the pool.  New Guy, shirtless and dripping wet, sounded like an amazing fantasy but given the way his manhood had perked up, Dipper knew a thin pair of swim trunks would threaten to expose his secret crush in front of far too many people.  That was one fantasy better to keep tucked away in his spank bank for later.

“What’s on your mind lately anyway?”

 _The hot guy downstairs cause I’m a fucking creep._  

“School,” he lied smoothly.  “Just worried about starting college and stuff…”

“ _Pfffffffffffft._ ”

For a split second, he thought Mabel was going to call his bluff, but luckily that wasn’t the case.  “You have, like, two more months to worry about it. We came up here to enjoy summer, not think about college.”

“Aren’t you even a little worried?”

“Me?  Nahhh.”

“How are you always so calm and collected over everything?”

Mabel shrugged.  “Someone has to be.”  She was still his big sister, only by birth, no longer by height.  He’d outgrown her when they turned fifteen and a major growth spurt had taken place.  But in many ways he still looked up to her, even if she _was_ the shorter twin now.

“Can you go check if our friend is ready to go? I’m just gonna braid my hair quick and then I’ll come down.”   

* * *

Over the past several days, New Guy had been making himself comfortable.  He’d eat dinner with the family and watch TV shows curled up on the living room floor, even though he admitted he didn’t understand the plot.  Stan and Ford had seemed to take a liking to him, treating him as though he was another nephew to bond with. And Dipper was secretly glad that Mabel insisted on dragging him along everywhere they went (even though he’d never bowled or ridden a bike or gone to the movies before) because it meant he could waste more time making heart eyes when no one was looking.  

But the best part, hands down - he was still borrowing Dipper’s clothing.  The teen almost hated having to throw them in the wash afterwards. He would’ve been content to roll around on the pile like a dog imprinting its owner’s scent.  

Okay, that was _definitely_ creepy but Dipper couldn’t bring himself to care.  Could anyone honestly blame him?

Alone with those thoughts, he stood in front of the guest room door, hesitating.  What had started as a simple crush quickly spiraled into an obsessive infatuation.  Every waking moment was spent thinking about the guy; his eyes, his lips, his hearty laugh, and the way his hand would feel grasping Dipper’s own.  No, he’d had crushes before but this time _it was bad_ and Dipper couldn’t pull himself out of the hole even though he knew he was in too deep.

The door swung open and New Guy almost crashed into him, causing Dipper to jump a little from the shock.  “Dipper?”

“Oh, hey.”  He was dressed in Dipper’s gray flannel and black skinny jeans (that did wonders for his ass, _oh my lord_ ) and the brunette almost forgot why he was standing there in the first place.  “Uh, M-Mabel asked me to come check if you were ready to go, I guess?”

The kid’s nervousness didn’t go unnoticed but New Guy didn’t comment on it as he closed the bedroom door behind him. He could only smirk as he placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Ready if you are.”

* * *

The carnival was much like any other.  An open field had been converted into a fairground, with tents and lights and bright-eyed children pulling their parents in every direction.  Fried food wafted through the air, luring customers to buy the overpriced snacks. Shrill bells and music emanated from the midway, a discordant mixture of sounds that blended with the chatter of a bustling crowd.

“Thanks for coming with us, Grunkle Stan,” Mabel said as they passed through the turnstyle.  They’d all gotten the back of their hands stamped so they could go on any rides and not worry about the hassle of counting out tickets.  

“You’re welcome, pumpkin.  But I’ll be honest - I’m just here for the fried meatloaf on a stick,” Grunkle Stan proclaimed.  He rubbed his hands together as he looked around the maze of vendors selling heart attack-inducing treats. “Take your time and meet me back here when you’re done, okay?”

The twins nodded their agreement and disappeared into the sea of people milling around the fairgrounds along with New Guy.  Ford had elected to stay home as carnivals just weren’t his thing - he’d much prefer a peaceful night of pouring over research papers and jotting down calculations - so Stan volunteered to drive them.  He definitely didn’t mention to his niece and nephew that he planned to bribe vendors with (expired) admission tickets to the Mystery Shack in exchange for discounted food.

Mabel was instantly drawn to the row of games that sported giant stuffed animal prizes.  Most were rigged for failure but the reward was simply too enticing to many people. “Dipper, you should try to win me a prize!”  Her eyes were wide and childlike as she pouted at her brother.

New Guy’s eyes flitted over to him and Dipper suddenly wanted to show off like a proud little peacock.  “Okay, sure.”

“Yay!” Mabel squeed.  

They approached the counter and the game operator explained that the object was to knock down a pyramid of milk bottles using a baseball.  Each shot cost $3 - grossly overpriced but they had to make a profit somehow. Dipper pushed three notes across the counter and was given a ball in exchange.  The operator stood off to the side, observing as Dipper wound up for his pitch. He launched the baseball with a grunt, knocking two cans from the top but leaving the rest undisturbed.  His face instantly flushed as embarrassment overtook him.

The man quickly reset the game and turned back to his customers. “Ooh, nice try.”  It was almost a mocking tone of voice. “Wanna go again?”

Dipper felt extremely small in that moment.  He’d just made himself look like a weak little fool in front of his crush and his sister and now this douchebag was rubbing it in.  He shoved both of his hands into the pocket of his blue sweatshirt and tried to will his body to dissipate into thin air.

New Guy stepped past him, their arms briefly brushing as he approached the counter.  “Let me try.”

Dipper passed over another $3 and watched in amazement as he immediately whipped the ball without bothering to aim.  Surely it would miss the--

Bottles flew in every direction as the baseball nailed its target.  The platform was cleared which caused all of them - even the game operator - to gape at New Guy, who shrugged and acted like it was no big deal.  He’d made it look so effortless and Dipper nearly _swooned._

“Uhm, okay! Looks like we’ve got a winner! You can select any of the top row prizes.”

“Pink bear,” Mabel whispered loudly.  

“The pink bear,” New Guy repeated.  Mabel bounced eagerly as she was handed the massive stuffed animal.  It was twice the size she was but light enough that she could still haul it on her back.

“Thank you so much!” She squealed, admiring her new prize.  She whirled around with the toy, nearly taking out an old couple and a little kid in the process.  

“That was incredible,” Dipper said breathlessly as they walked away from the counter.  “You must be pretty strong.” His thoughts wandered to New Guy lifting him and pinning him up against a wall as they kissed.  

“Guess so,” the blonde smiled.  His golden eyes studied Dipper’s face and the teen thanked his lucky stars that New Guy couldn’t read his mind.  

“I’m gonna have Grunkle Stan put this in his car,” Mabel said.  The bear looked like it was smiling as Mabel gave it a piggyback ride, making her way towards the exit and searching for their great uncle.

“So.. wanna ride something?” New Guy asked when she was gone.  

 _Yeah, you_.  

“Sure.  How about the Ferris wheel?” Dipper suggested. The queue was moving quickly and they’d be able to get a spot right away.  

“Perfect.”  

The two men showed their stamped hands to the ride operator and climbed into one of the two-person cars.  It was a slow ascent, but once they’d reached the top, the view was breathtaking. The sun was halfway through setting, bathing the land around them a soft orange hue.  Hot pink clouds streaked the sky and Dipper was completely awestruck.

It wasn’t until he dared a glance at New Guy that he realized the man had already been staring at him.  

“H-hey.”  Dipper suddenly noticed how close they were, their bodies pressed against each other as they sat side by side.  

“Hey,” the man mirrored, eyes half lidded as he smirked at the blushing teen.  By the way he was looking at him, Dipper knew his cover had been blown. His suggestive comments and the way his face flushed whenever they were alone together spoke volumes.  If he could’ve run, he would’ve easily surpassed any existing olympic records. But as the situation stood, he was trapped in a tiny metal seat a good one hundred and fifty feet in the air with his crush, who was looking at Dipper like he wanted to swallow him whole.

Thoughts of those perfect lips against his own flooded his mind but his nerves caused him to hesitate like they always did.  Mabel often ribbed him for chickening out of things at the last second, but this moment could have major consequences that he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with just yet.  

As they looked into each others eyes, Mabel’s words from earlier came to him.   _Let loose tonight.  We’re gonna have fun!_ Suddenly he went from rotisserie chicken to mighty T-rex as some primal instinct washed over him.

_Fuck it._

Dipper grabbed the New Guy’s face in his hands and smashed their mouths together.  Floodgates of desire slammed open, conveyed through the press of lips and hands becoming tangled in each other’s hair.  Dipper eagerly parted his lips as the man’s tongue prodded, demanding entrance.

_Holy._

_Shit._

They were actually kissing, washed in the vivid orange hues of the late afternoon sun.  It was like a dream come true; certainly better than any romantic movie Mabel had ever forced him to watch.  Dipper shuddered as they exchanged saliva and breathed in each others’ scents. The already fiery kiss became even more passionate as their tongues slid together and a soft moan escaped Dipper’s throat.  Every nerve ending was lighting up the longer they kissed. Sparks were definitely igniting between them and he never wanted it to end.

New Guy pulled away as the wheel began lowering them towards the ground where they’d once again be in the public eye.  Dipper was thankful they’d been high enough up that their kiss remained a secret shared only between the two of them. It was safe to say that any butterflies he’d experienced had been torn apart by ravenous mountain lions.  He felt dizzy as they exited the ride and New Guy placed a hand on his lower back to steady him.

Dipper was still floating far above the earth when Mabel spotted them.  

“I was looking for you two everywhere,” she exaggerated.  “Did you have fun on the Ferris wheel?”

New Guy exchanged a knowing glance with Dipper before turning back to the eager brunette.  “ _Lots_ of fun.”

Dipper nodded as he began to climb down from the high.  As they walked towards a concession stand, he replayed the moment over and over in his mind, smiling like a lovesick idiot.  Mabel ordered the three of them corn dogs and they sat together on an empty bench as they ate. Dipper’s knee constantly brushed against the blonde’s in a suggestive manner and they definitely eyefucked a few times while Mabel was distracted.  

Tonight was _definitely_ one for the history books.

* * *

The three of them were crammed into the backseat of Stan’s car as they drove home.  Mabel’s teddy bear occupied the passenger seat, its neck crammed at an awkward angle against the ceiling so that it would fit into the vehicle.  She’d made sure to buckle it in too, proclaiming, “safety first!” as she did so.

Dipper found himself in the center of their human sandwich, Mabel on his left and New Guy on his right.  The man was rubbing teasing circles into Dipper’s upper thigh, purposely avoiding his cock. The brunette was thankful for the darkness of the forest and lack of street lights on the road leading back to the Mystery Shack.  

Mabel was glued to her phone, hurriedly typing away.  She was posting a selfie she’d taken with her stuffed bear - affectionately named Sir Hugginsby - to every social media account she could think of.   _Made a new friend tonight!_ the caption read, followed by a string of hashtags.  

Dipper felt himself growing harder under the light touches, biting back sounds of pleasure.  The barrier between them had finally crumbled tonight but he still wasn’t ready to confess to his family that he swung both ways.  

The idea of them knowing that carefully guarded secret scared the living shit out of him.

As soon as they exited the car, Dipper muttered a half-hearted excuse that he wasn’t feeling well because the corn dog must not have sat right in his stomach.  He locked himself in the bathroom and immediately began to take care of his not-so-little problem.

He palmed himself at a quick pace, already wound tight from the ride home.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss and how incredible it had felt - like finally being rewarded for something you’d worked so hard to achieve.  He groaned and huffed, letting his eyes close and head fall back as he lost himself to the sensations.

He imagined that it was New Guy’s hand jacking him off instead of his own as he whispered dirty praise into his ear.   _Such a good boy for me.  Look at how wrecked you are… so fucking hot.._.  Dipper was further spurred on by the idea of the sexy stranger dropping to his knees and giving him the damn best blowjob of his life.  

A gasp was ripped out of him as Dipper came.  Rope after rope of cum splashed into the toilet in front of him as his entire body spasmed.  Waves of pleasure washed over him and he finally felt sated.

It took a few moments to get cleaned up and make sure there was no evidence left behind.  He flushed the toilet and checked his appearance in the mirror. _Good as new._  Dipper jumped as a loud knock resonated from the door, causing his heartbeat to kick up again.  

“Hurry up in there, that meatloaf on a stick went right through me!”

Dipper was nearly knocked over the moment he unlocked the bathroom door as Grunkle Stan rushed inside.  “Thanks, now get out, I’m practically prairie doggin’ it here!”

* * *

Later that evening, Melody had returned from her bachelorette trip to Portland.  The moment she stepped into the gift shop, Soos nearly leapt over the counter out of eagerness to see her again.  He abandoned his post as cashier in favor of hugging and kissing his beautiful fiancee - the woman he knew he couldn’t live without.  Besides, the Mystery Shack was completely dead at this time of day, even more so with the carnival in town.

“I missed you so much babe.  Did you have fun?”

Melody grinned as she cradled her head against his strong shoulder.  The girls’ trip had been a nice reprieve but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t missed Soos with every fiber of her being.  It was wonderful to be reunited and relaxed from a week of pedicures and margaritas and catching up with old friends. She wrapped her arms around him and the engagement ring on her left hand sparkled in the artificial lighting.  It wasn’t some gigantic diamond or elaborately designed piece, but rather a delicate ring passed down from Soos’s abuelita. She’d given it to him with her blessing and the small diamond meant more to Soos and Melody than any thousand-dollar ring ever could.

It was perfect and so was she.

Their eyes met and both were happy to be home, not only in the physical sense but the emotional sense as well.  Soos pressed his lips to hers and they kissed, lost in the overwhelming love they felt for each other.

“Ahem.”

They turned to find Grunkle Stan with his hands on his hips looking less than pleased.  “I didn’t know I was paying you to make out.”

“Oh, sorry boss,” Soos mumbled and returned to his place behind the register.  Melody couldn’t be mad that Stan had interrupted them - after working for the man for five years she knew he hated when anyone slacked on the job (unless it was himself, of course).  She wrapped the old man in a tight hug and he grunted in response but patted her on the back gently.

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Pines.”

He stroked his palm over the mess of dark curls on her head and smiled.  “Melody, you know you can call me Stan like everyone else.”

“I know, Mr. Pines,” she laughed.  

As they parted, Stan placed one arm over Melody’s shoulder and pointed his free hand at Soos.  “If you’ve got time to kiss, you’ve got time to… fliss? Swiss?...uh…” He rubbed his chin and tried to think of words that rhymed but it was no use.  “Eh. Just unpack those boxes of snow globes and keychains and then you can clock out for the night.”

Soos saluted him and moved to take care of the task he was assigned. “Aye aye, Captain Boss Man, sir!”

Grunkle Stan returned the salute and turned to the brunette.  “Let’s go upstairs, Mel - there’s some kids in the attic who are excited to see you.”

* * *

‘Kids’ was hardly the word Melody would have chosen to describe Dipper and Mabel who had grown up before her eyes.  It was amazing to think how tiny they’d been five years ago as they transitioned from children to teenagers on their thirteenth birthday.  And now they were heading towards their last year of teenagedom, crossing the threshold once more as young adulthood beckoned. Despite their physical appearance, they really hadn’t changed as people and she was happy for that at least.

“Oh my goshhhh I wish I could’ve come with you!” Mabel was hanging upside down over the edge of the bed, her long hair pooling on the wooden floor beneath.  “It sounds like you had an amazing time!”

Melody nodded as she sat next to Mabel, holding the girl’s hand in her own.  “It was wonderful. But listen, I have something I want to ask you.”

Mabel pulled herself into a sitting position, looking into Melody’s hazel eyes.  “What is it?”

“I’d like you to be a bridesmaid in the wedding.”

Dipper shielded his ears as Mabel let out a high-pitched screech.  Any birds that had been sitting outside of the open window probably had heart attacks and died instantly - if they were lucky.

“I know it’s short notice, but one of the girls had to cancel and I’d hate to have her dress go to waste.  And you look to be about her size, so it shouldn’t require much tailoring to fit.”

“Yes! Yes, yes of course I’ll be a bridesmaid! And did I mention, **YES**?!”

Melody chuckled as Mabel threw her arms around her and squeezed tighter than a ball python with its prey.  Dipper actually had to tell Mabel to ease up to prevent her from crushing Melody’s windpipe. Soos would be devastated if she died before the wedding and his sister wasn’t helping that cause.

“Sorry, sorry!” Mabel backed off and scooted across the mattress.  “I’m just so excited!”

“Yeah, we couldn’t tell,” Dipper replied sarcastically.  He pretended to look annoyed before shooting her a smile.  The girl was always over-enthusiastic but weddings made her system short out and her brain turn to mush.  He wondered if it would melt out of her ears as she giddily discussed the details of the big day with Melody.  

“I’m sorry I couldn’t add you to the wedding, Dipper,” Melody suddenly spoke.  “My brothers volunteered to be Soos’s groomsmen already, or I would’ve asked you.”

“It’s fine.  I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of a crowd anyway,” he chuckled.  It would be just his luck to trip and fall during the procession, or spill a drink all over himself or someone else.  Dipper was one of those people who ended up on _America’s Funniest Home Videos_ purely due to his own clumsiness.  

“‘kay.  I’ll count you as a guest then.  We’ve got some extra invites, so feel free to bring a plus one along!”  

Oh yeah.

Dipper knew _exactly_ who he was going to bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting interesting now, aren't they? Heheheh
> 
> Oh, and if you don't already know what prairie dogging is, maybe don't look it up? ;)


	6. Slumber Party

“I invited Candy, Grenda and Pacifica over for a sleepover tonight.”  
  
Dipper’s brow furrowed.  “Pacifica? I thought you still hated her?”

“I never _hated_ her, Dip… she was mean and stuff but she’s better now.  I think everything we went through really humbled her. That and losing her money and mansion.  She’s basically like one of us now.”

A silence followed as Dipper recalled how upset Mabel had been after Pacifica won the karaoke contest.  Their first meeting had been full of contention and bitterness which had caused Dipper to write the blonde off as a total bitch.  But somehow over the course of a summer, they’d managed to win her over and Dipper decided that maybe she wasn’t so terrible after all.

Mabel’s voice snapped him out of it.  “Anyway, you’re gonna have to sleep on the couch or something tonight, cause it’s girls only!” She held up a crudely drawn sign that read “NO BOYS ALLOWED!” in giant cursive letters.  “Wendy might come up too, when she’s done closing up the gift shop. So get your stuff and scuttle your butt outta here!”

Dipper grabbed his pillows and comforter from the mattress and headed downstairs.  Any protest would have been fruitless so he decided to let Mabel have her fun for the night.  He didn’t want to be present for the bubblegum pop music and noxious nail polish fumes anyway.    

He was on his way to the living room when he found himself standing in front of New Guy’s door.  Crashing with him was far more appealing than spending the night on a sofa he was sure Grunkle Stan had lifted from a dumpster in the 1970’s.  He knocked lightly and waited for a moment but there was no reply.

Just as he’d resigned himself to staying in the living room, the wooden door swung open and Sexy McHotpants was smiling at him.  “Hi, Dipper. Something wrong?”

“U-uh, n-no, there’s, nothing’s wrong.” Damn nerves causing him to look like a stuttering idiot.

New Guy was still as smooth as ever.  “What brings you to my door then?”

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck nervously.  He was positive he looked like a little kid standing outside their parents’ door after having a nightmare as he cradled the giant blue comforter and pillows.  “Mabel’s having friends over and she kicked me out of our room. I was just wondering if I could stay with you tonight.” The last part came out rushed and almost unintelligible, but the sparkle in those golden eyes told him the man had understood perfectly.  

“Of course.”  He motioned Dipper inside and closed the door behind them.  The space was dark aside from a small desk lamp that cast a soft golden glow in the corner.  Dipper recalled when he and Mabel had fought over this room several summers ago. It ended with them swapping bodies and deciding that they missed each other’s company too much to be apart.  Since then, the cursed carpet had been removed and disposed of by Grunkle Stan.

“Come sit.” The man patted the mattress in invitation and Dipper hurried over, dropping his belongings on the floor in the process.  They sat side by side in silence with only the faint chirp of crickets outside the window. Dipper felt embarrassed again and had a hard time looking at the blonde so he picked a spot on the floor and bored a hole into it with his eyes.  He only looked up when the man slid a hand under his chin and turned Dipper’s head so they were now face to face. “It’s been two days and you’ve hardly spoken to me. So let’s chat.”

Dipper’s heart did flips in his chest as he stared into those molten eyes.  “About what?”

A chuckle came from New Guy as he continued cradling Dipper’s head in his palm.  The boy was so avoidant that it was amusing. Ever since that first night, he’d noticed how the brunette looked at him like he was a glass of fine wine and passed compliments that only a complete idiot would have missed.  He may not have been able to remember anything, but he was _far_ from stupid.  “Mm, I think you know what.”

Dipper hated confrontation with his entire being but the further they dug this rabbit hole the harder it was to escape from.  Maybe now was time to get everything out into the open and stop being so chickenshit around him.

“I know you like me, Dipper - I’ve known for a while now.  Your antics have been endearing to say the least, but it’s time to stop dancing around it.”

The weight of the world felt like it finally lifted from Dipper’s shoulders with those words.  He surged forward and kissed the blonde, and it was _freeing_.  He could finally express how he’d been feeling and no longer bottled it up in fear of the secret being exposed.  His brave side took control again and Dipper pinned the man to the mattress beneath them, kissing him hungrily. New Guy returned the kiss with equal fervor and Dipper pressed his growing length into the man’s thigh.  Both panted heavily as the kiss was broken but Dipper continued to hold the blonde’s arms down against the bed. “Fine,” he breathed, “I admit it. I’m fucking obsessed with you and it scares the hell out of me. But I’ve seen you staring back and the way you kissed me on the Ferris wheel? Obviously you like me too.”

The blonde surged up and they were now in a sitting position, with Dipper on his lap.  “You got me on that one.” He moved Dipper’s hand to the front of his pants where he sported a similar erection.  “I think this says a lot about how I feel about you.”

Dipper shivered as he palmed the blonde’s cock and gave in to the overwhelming urge to kiss the man again.  As he leaned forward to connect their lips, a knock came at the door.

“Hey Dipper, you in there?”

Dipper groaned and wished Grunkle Stan would just go away - whatever he needed was probably petty in comparison to Dipper’s own wants and desires.  He was content to ignore the man and continue kissing, but New Guy stood and cracked the door slightly.

“Oh hey,” Stan said.  “Is Dipper with you?”

“He is.”  New Guy shifted the wood open further to reveal Dipper plodding up alongside him.  The brunette did his best to hide his erection as he stood in the doorway. Why New Guy had ever decided to answer Stan in the first place was beyond him, especially when things were just getting hot and heavy.  

“There you are.  I went upstairs to look for you, but your sister and her friends threw Cheez-its at my head and told me to ‘take my cooties elsewhere’.”  He made air quotes as he repeated their words. “I was walking by and thought I heard voices.”

Dipper was about to make a sarcastic comment about Stan hearing voices and going senile, but the elder was speaking again.

“Anyway, you guys wanna go to the bar and grab some food?  I’m starving.” An animated growl came from his stomach, punctuating his words.

“I’m not 21 yet,” Dipper said, but Grunkle Stan flashed three I.D. cards in his face.

“Already took care of it.”  

Dipper grabbed the I.D.’s and read over the info stamped on them.   _Stan Pines, age 49_ \- Dipper snorted at that _\- ...Dipper Pines, age 21..._ He stopped when he got to the last I.D.  “Norman Pascal Heinrich? What the hell?”

“Hey, it sounded foreign to me,” Stan shrugged, grabbing the identification cards and pocketing them.  “New Guy needs a name and could pass for being a Russian, don’t ya think?”

Dipper was about to point out the fact that _none_ of those names were anywhere close to being Russian, but New Guy’s hand found his shoulder and the words died on his tongue.  The look he was giving him told Dipper not to be rude. “Of course we’ll join you, Stanley,” the blonde said with a smile. “How thoughtful of you to invite us.”   

* * *

Dipper was still a little pissed off that Grunkle Stan had cockblocked him even as they climbed out of the car and went inside.  The bar was small and smokey and the lights were dim as patrons bustled about. Stan grabbed three vacant stools near the back and went to work flagging the bartender over.  A tall moustached man finally approached and asked to see their I.D.’s. Stan slid them across the granite counter and allowed him to inspect the cards. Dipper had to admit they looked pretty realistic, and even if the guy _could_ tell they were fakes, he didn’t seem to care.

“What can I get for you?”

“Three beers - Guinness - and buffalo wings to start.  Oh, and Randy, after that you can bring us cheesesteaks and fries.”  The way Stan ordered for all of them reminded Dipper of the night at McDonalds when Mabel went absolutely overboard.   _Must be a genetic thing._

The man known as Randy tapped three beers and handed them out before typing their order onto a small screen nearby.  He moved away to serve two older women who Stan immediately began winking at. One of them giggled and began whispering to her friend when she noticed him.  He’d either get lucky tonight or get punched in the face - either way, it was worth a shot.

Dipper stared down at the pint in front of him.  It felt wrong to indulge before he officially turned 21, but, in truth, this hadn’t been his first time.  Back in 11th grade, he’d succumbed to peer pressure at a raging house party and had his first drink. Mabel was already four beers in and making out with some stranger in a closet down the hall.  She had gotten trashed and it was up to Dipper to get them home safely. Fortunately, their parents would be out late that night so he was able to sneak Mabel into her bed without incident. The next morning he casually mentioned she caught a stomach bug and their parents were none the wiser.

Of course it bothered Dipper to lie to the very people who had given them life and cared for them all those years, but sometimes secrets had to be kept to avoid hurting the ones you loved most.  He picked up the glass and took a drink, face contorting a bit as he was unsure of the taste. A few more sips and the beverage had grown on him.

Randy was back in a moment with the basket of buffalo wings Stan had ordered for them to share.  Dipper watched as New Guy grabbed one and bit into it without a second thought. He chewed for a moment before his eyes widened and he began coughing.  The chicken wing was cast aside as he grabbed the beer in front of him and began guzzling it to alleviate the burning sensation in his mouth.

Stan was laughing as he grabbed the basket and began chowing down.  “Too hot for ya, huh?” In all honesty, they were barely even spicy; absolutely nothing compared to the Carolina Reaper he’d eaten once as part of a dare.  It felt like he’d consumed the sun, but for another $500 he’d do it again.

There wasn’t much Stan wouldn’t do for $500 or even $5 if he was being honest.   

“Are you alright, New--I mean, Norman?” Dipper waited until the man had drained his glass and looked like he could breathe again.

“Fine,” he panted, taking a moment to compose himself.  Whatever the hell was on those, he wasn’t sure, but he never wanted to experience it again.  Their cheesesteaks arrived shortly after and he stared at the plate in front of him with distrust and uncertainty.

“It’s not hot,” Dipper explained.  “Well, maybe temperature-wise, but it’s not spicy, I promise.”  

He still appeared unsure but Dipper was trustworthy and had no reason to lie.  Stan, on the other hand, would say anything just to get a kick out of it. He waited for the other two to begin eating before also digging in.  Dipper was right - this had a much more pleasant taste than the vile buffalo wings. This was more like the first burger he’d had from McDonalds; cheese and meat was quickly becoming his favorite combination.  

“Y’know, this is pretty much the only joint I haven’t been kicked out of,” Stan said casually, sucking hot sauce from his fingers.

“Yet,” Dipper muttered under his breath.

“You say somethin’?”

Dipper shook his head and pretended to watch the football game that was playing on the overhead screens.  It was a repeat of last year’s Seahawks game since they were currently in the off-season.

Grunkle Stan grunted as he ate.  “I could’ve been a quarterback,” he said.  It was hard to take that comment seriously on a normal basis, let alone when he looked like a chipmunk with its cheeks full.  “Made this invention one time for the high school science fair but it was too genius for the airheads at West Coast Tech. Ford’s dinky little project was more interesting or something.”  He grumbled his annoyance and stuffed even more food into his face, causing his words to come out sounding like Daffy Duck. “Sthupihd athholes.”

He finally swallowed the mass of meat and fries and chased it down with a gulp of beer.  “I gotta say though, it’s nice to have some male bonding time.” He flagged down the bartender.  “Hey, Randy, bring us some vodka shots.”

“Uhm, Grunkle Stan, do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Don’t worry.  It takes a lot for me to get drunk.”

* * *

Stan ate his words and he ate them _hard._  Two beers and four shots later and he was hammered, barely able to remain upright on his barstool.           

“And how would you like to pay for your food and drinks tonight?”

“Juss pud it on my tab,” he slurred.

“You’re gonna have to pay your tab at some point.  You already owe us $247, Mr. Pines.” Randy looked just as aggravated as he sounded.   

“So?” Stan wobbled back and forth.  He would’ve hit the floor face first if it hadn’t been for New Guy’s arms shooting out to catch him.  He couldn’t be sure if the room was spinning, or he was spinning, or both.

Dipper’s eyes widened.  “Holy shit, $247?!”

“And now it’s $297 after tonight’s bill.”

New Guy looked up at Randy, drinking in his words.  

_And now it’s $297 after tonight’s bill._

_Tonight’s bill._

_Bill._

Dipper pulled out his wallet and counted out $50 for the food and drinks and another $10 for Randy’s tip.  He’d pay for their share tonight but the remaining balance was up to Grunkle Stan. The large food bills were quickly depleting the money Dipper had saved in his bank account and he wasn’t about to beg his parents to replenish it.  They already had enough financial problems to worry about.

The man who had served them looked surprised as he counted out the money and pocketed his tip.  “Thanks. Your friend never pays me a single cent.”

“Yeah, he’s… something else.  Good luck getting the rest of it though.”

“Thanks.  Have a good night and get home safe.”

Dipper and New Guy had to prop Stan up between them as they made their way back to the car.  There was no way in hell Stan was going to be allowed to drive, so the two ushered him into the back seat and Dipper took the wheel.  He was probably the least intoxicated out of the three of them, riding out the feeling of a nice buzz.

In reality, even _he_ shouldn’t have been driving, but the Mystery Shack wasn’t far and the roads were eerily quiet tonight.  Thankfully, Dipper was able to navigate the classic car back home without swerving into a ditch or hitting a pedestrian.  Stan was blathering something about potatoes and the government as Dipper and New Guy pulled him from the back seat.

Traversing the short flight of stairs was proving to be a monumental task.  The elder’s legs weren’t working like they should, so the two younger men had to essentially drag him onto the porch and keep him balanced.  Dipper fumbled with the front door key. His perception was slightly altered but it finally slid into the lock. With a click they stumbled through the front door.

The second task was maneuvering Stan towards the living room without breaking anything.  A vase on display in the hall was sideswiped but thankfully remained in its place. “Grunkle Stan, are you sure you don’t wanna sleep upstairs in your bed?”

“Haaaahhh, noppeee. Sleep’s -- sleep’s for big fat losers.  Ugly, fat losers, haha! Pud tha TV on for me, will ya?”

Dipper flicked through the channels until Stan screamed for him to stop.  There was a colorful cartoon bunny bouncing around the screen - a program obviously targeted at a much younger demographic - singing a song about geography.  Grunkle Stan pointed and began laughing hysterically as though he were watching a comedy show rather than an educational program for 8 year olds.

Dipper wasn’t sure how it was possible, but Drunk Stan was even more obnoxious than Sober Stan.  He pulled out his phone and began recording in case he ever needed some sweet blackmail. If anything, Ford would get a kick out of it tomorrow morning.  

Within two minutes, Stan had passed out, snoring in the yellow-striped recliner.  

“How charming,” New Guy muttered as he observed the scene.  

“That’s Grunkle Stan for you,” Dipper chuckled as he pocketed his phone.  His face was flushed, not out of embarrassment for once, but rather from drinking.  A red blush unintentionally bloomed across his cheeks, regardless of the amount of alcohol he’d had.

They walked the short distance to the guest room and New Guy locked the door behind them.  Ford was already in bed or otherwise preoccupied, Mabel and the girls were immersed in gossip magazines and girl talk, and Stan was going to sleep until _at least_ the next afternoon.  

There would be no more interruptions now.

Dipper was laying out his comforter and pillows on the floor and preparing to crawl onto it so he could wrap himself up like a burrito when New Guy grabbed his wrist and spun him around.  They were kissing again, lips like magnets snapping together. Dipper had already been floating on a cloud from the alcohol buzz, but this only caused him to become even more untethered as he drifted high into the stratosphere.  He’d be content to kiss the man until every ounce of oxygen was pulled from his lungs because at least he’d die happy.

Before he knew what was happening, New Guy had dropped down in front of the brunette and was making quick work of the zipper and button on his pants.

“Wait!  What are you doing?!”  Dipper knew exactly what was happening but the pure shock of it all made him blurt out nervous words.  

“What does it look like I’m doing?”  He continued to pull at Dipper’s jeans, yanking them down to his ankles.  All that remained between Dipper’s dick and the man’s face was a single layer of fabric.

“A-are y-you _sure_ you want to do this?”

“Sure as sin,” he purred, freeing Dipper’s cock from its confines.  It didn’t take much before Dipper was fully hard, turned on just by the light touches.  As New Guy stroked him, he flicked his tongue out and teasingly licked the head. The taste made him groan as he gave into his own desires.

But it wasn’t until New Guy swallowed him down to the hilt that Dipper stopped breathing.  

His mind went blank and the world zeroed in to the size of a pinhead.  The man he’d been crushing on for weeks was on his knees, _pleasuring him with his mouth._ It was even better than he’d pictured during one of his masturbation sessions. He whined and buried his hands in his own hair as his entire body trembled.  It would take the highest amount of resolve he could muster not to blow his load like a preteen boy, especially when those gorgeous amber eyes were locked on the pleasurable contortions of Dipper’s face.  

He hollowed his cheeks and sucked earnestly.  The bastard had definitely done this before because he knew all of the spots that were quickly spiraling Dipper towards completion.  He was picking him undone with each vibrating moan and pass of his tongue.  

“You don’t know how many times I’ve pictured this,” the blonde whispered, flicking his wrist with each upward stroke.  “How I’ve dreamt about taking you apart with my mouth.”

Dipper felt his dick spit out a blob of precum that was quickly lapped up by the man’s eager tongue.  His words were an aphrodisiac and it took the brunette a second to realize the man had been pining for him the same way all this time.  He knew he hadn’t just been imagining the sexual tension that filled the air every time they were alone together. It was this thought that fueled the fire in his belly and made every nerve ending light up.  Dipper grasped the black hairs at the base of the man’s skull and began fucking his mouth. The action forced him to take more of Dipper’s cock until it almost choked him, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. The blonde snaked a hand into his own pants and he palmed himself in time with the rhythm they had set.  It was sloppy and careless but it felt _so damn good_.

With one final thrust, Dipper came as the man moaned around his cock.  He wasn’t far behind, coating his hand and a little bit splashing onto the floor.  It would’ve been nice to drag it out and take things slow, but the tension between them was finally broken and was replaced with feelings of bliss.   

The air in the room felt thick and heavy as they panted and sighed in the darkness.  Dipper pulled the blonde onto the mattress and kissed him, slower and more passionately this time.  Neither spoke a word as they curled together beneath the covers and exchanged soft caresses. They remained that way for a long while and Dipper felt his eyes growing heavy with the promise of sleep.

“If I had known all it took was a few beers to let me give you a blowjob, I would’ve gotten you drunk sooner.”  The man winked and Dipper playfully punched him in the arm.

“Shut up, _Norman_.”

* * *

Dipper woke to the sounds of birdsong and the shifting form next to him.  A thin ray of light peeked through the heavy curtains, falling across the bed in fragmented lines.  He rolled over to find that New Guy was already half awake, blinking sleep from his eyes.

“Hey.”  That sultry voice was cracked and rough and Dipper knew it wasn’t just from sleep.  He blushed slightly as he remembered the events that had transpired the previous night.

“Hey,” he mirrored, moving to close the distance between their bodies.  He rested his head against the blonde’s chest and nuzzled his face into the fabric of the borrowed t-shirt.  “Last night was fun,” Dipper smiled, staring across the room at nothing in particular.

“I agree,” New Guy said.  He stroked Dipper’s brown locks lovingly, uncovering the freckled constellation on his forehead.

Dipper suddenly sat up to look at him, his voice taking on a serious tone.  “You can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Of course not.”  New Guy had also pulled himself into a sitting position.  He reached out to stroke Dipper’s cheek and the boy placed a hand over his.  

“I mean it.  I’m not ready for people to know about this… about _us._ ”  He began chewing at his lower lip out of nervousness.

The blonde leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss against his lips.  “I won’t say anything. I promise.” He pulled back and rested his forehead against Dipper’s.  They stared at each other through half-lidded eyes and Dipper felt like his heart was ready to burst with all of the emotions he was feeling right now.  The foremost was love, but it was tainted by fear and guilt as he pictured his family finding out and disowning him for it. He was determined to hide this relationship as long as he possibly could.

“I remembered my name last night.”

Dipper leaned back, his eyes widening slightly.  “You did? What is it?” He was thoroughly intrigued to finally put a name with the face he’d pined after for so long.   

“It’s Bill.”

Whatever happiness Dipper felt quickly dissipated as his heart sank into his stomach.  It couldn’t be. There was _no fucking way_.  Still, he had to ask, eager to find relief when the man said no.  “B-Bill as in… Bill Cipher?”

But the glimmer of recognition and curiosity in those eyes did nothing to quell Dipper’s fears.  In fact, it fueled them as a sense of panic began to set in.

“ _Cipher_...yes, that’s...that's it.  How did you know?”

“D-d-do you remember a-anything else?”  His stuttering was out of control now as all of the pieces began to fall into place.  That first night in the woods when he’d discovered the statue was missing, only to come back later with Mabel to find the man who was now staring at him so intensely.  It never occurred to Dipper to put two and two together. How _stupid_ could he be?!    

“No.  Not yet at least.  But that’s my name, I’m sure of it.”

The younger man leapt up out of bed as a full-blown panic attack was imminent.  “Holy shit! _Holyshitohmyfuckinggod_ …!”  He raked his hands through his hair as he paced the room, trembling.

“Dipper?”  Bill stood and placed a hand on his shoulder.  “What’s wrong?”

Suddenly Dipper felt like he was about to vomit up every internal organ in his body.  His face paled as he became lightheaded and the room began to spin. He had to catch the bedpost to steady himself or he’d pass out.

He hadn’t fallen in love with just any handsome stranger wandering the woods.  No, Dipper’s life was never that simple.

He’d fallen in love with _motherfucking Bill Cipher_ and there was no way he could ever let anyone find out _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUNNNNN! Can't say we didn't all see that coming, but Dipper certainly didn't... Things just got a lot more complicated!
> 
> Also on a serious note, in no way do I condone drunk (or even buzzed) driving and you shouldn't either. Drink responsibly and stay safe out there my darlings <3


	7. In His Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter jumps around so much. There were a lot of scenes I wanted to fit in this time around. Hope you all enjoy :)

Dipper had managed to avoid interacting with Bill for an entire week.  Any time the man entered a room, Dipper would make a point to excuse himself and headed to the attic or locked himself in the bathroom.  Bill had tried talking to him, but Dipper had retreated back into his shell and decided to avoid his problems rather than dealing with them.  He knew full well that it was cowardly and petty, but he was still trying to process everything that had happened and deciding what his next moves would be. 

He couldn’t avoid Bill forever, but he was going to damn well try. 

What he hadn’t realized was that Mabel had taken notice.  Dipper never felt like hanging out with her and the blonde anymore - he always had an excuse that he was busy reading a book or coming up with new strategies for the latest edition of Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons.  She watched how he tensed each time the man tried to talk to them and shut himself away in their room like a hermit. Dipper was usually reserved, but never to this extent. Something was bothering him and she was going to find out what.

On the last day of June, Mabel plopped herself on Dipper’s bed and ripped the book he was reading out of his hands.  “Hey--!” he protested, but Mabel wouldn’t give it back to him. She held it just out of reach and blocked him each time he tried to grab it.

“Mabel, what gives?!”

“You’re gonna talk to me, Dipper,” she said.  The playfulness in her voice was gone and serious!Mabel had stepped into the ring now.  “You’ve been acting super weird lately. Something’s bothering you, and don’t you dare try to say it’s college.”

“There’s nothing wrong, Mabel, now give me my book.”  He didn’t want to have this conversation, now or ever.  He just wanted to immerse himself in a fictional world and forget about everything that had happened lately.   

His twin’s eyes hardened.  “ _Stop. Lying._ ”

Exasperated, Dipper buried his face in his palms.  When Mabel wanted to know something she was persistent until he finally crumbled.  If he tried to fight her she’d only press harder. Besides, he was starting to have an inner melt down from all of the worry he’d been harboring over the past week.  Maybe it was time to clue her in.

“Fine, since you won’t give up until I tell you anyway…”  
  
“That’s right.  So spill it.”

“Remember last Saturday when you had your sleepover?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I hung out with New Guy and he told me he remembered his name.”  He decided to omit the part about drinking and getting head - he couldn’t bring himself to let her know about that.  

At least… not yet.

Mabel’s eyes suddenly lit up.  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? What is it?!”  She tugged at Dipper’s arm excitedly. It would be nice to finally call him something other than “New Guy”.  That title was getting old now.

He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable fall out.  “It’s Bill Cipher.”

The pure horror that washed over Mabel was evident as her jaw dropped and her eyes widened.  “It’s... Bill?! Like, dream demon Bill?!?!”

He nodded solemnly.

“Oh my gosh, Dipper, you really _were_ on to something that night!  I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you, I should’ve known…”

A drawn-out silence filled the attic as the gravity of it all finally set in.  

She suddenly leapt to her feet.  “We have to tell the Grunkles!”

“Mabel, wait!” He grabbed her arm as she made a move to leave the room.  “Maybe…”

“What is it, Dipper?”

He bit down on his lower lip, chewing it in thought. “...Maybe this is our chance.”

“What do you mean?”  He was being just as cryptic as Ford now and she absolutely _hated_ it.

Dipper’s eyes locked with Mabel’s, the brown orbs mirroring each other.  “We could try to reshape him… if he doesn’t remember anything, we could start over - try to redeem him or something.”

Mabel was silent for a moment, still staring at her brother.  “You mean like, teach him how to be a good person?”

“Exactly.”

“Dipper, are you bonkers?  He tried to kill our whole family and take over the town! We have to let Stan and Ford know about this!”  She made a move to leave for the second time, but again, Dipper caught her arm.

“Please just trust me, Mabel!  He’s... different now than he was before.  If he was still dangerous, don’t you think he would’ve tried something already?  You’ve seen him over the past few weeks - he’s like a normal person. Let’s just see if we can make it work, okay?”

She exhaled a big sigh and nodded, although still not entirely convinced.  “Okay. I… guess we can try. It couldn’t hurt, right?”

Dipper felt relief wash over him at his sister’s agreement, however reluctant it may have been.  “Right.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, things seemed like they were starting to return to some semblance of normal.  As much as normal could be in a place like Gravity Falls, that is. The trio went out into the overcast day to check more items off of Mabel’s bucket list.  They hiked through the woods for a few hours and then went into town for smoothies at a local cafe. By the time they started heading back to the Mystery Shack, it had started to rain.

They ran inside the A-frame cabin, laughing as they became soaked.  Mabel’s wet hair clung to her face in soggy ringlets as she shut the door behind them.  The onset of a thunderstorm was inevitable as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky and the rain became a downpour.    

Dipper turned to face Bill as Mabel went to work ringing out her hair.  “I know we had fun today, but you can’t say anything to Stan and Ford about your real name.”     

Bill cocked his head like a confused puppy.  “Why not?”

“It’s just… they’d get really upset if they knew.”

“Upset if we knew what?”

Dipper felt like his soul had been ripped from its body and was replaced with white hot waves of shock.  Ford and Stan were suddenly looming behind him like a pair of stone gargoyles, faces inquisitive as they waited expectantly.

Backed into a corner, there was no other choice than to say it.  “Promise me you won’t freak out.”

“Dipper --”

“Promise me!”

Stan threw his hands up in the air.  “Okay, okay. What is it, kid? Spit it out.”

The brunette drew in a shuddering sigh.  The lightheartedness of the day was quickly destroyed as he uttered the words, “New Guy is really Bill Cipher.”

Both of them burst out laughing, leaving Dipper standing before them, completely bewildered by their reactions.  Stan clapped a hand on his soaked shoulder as he laughed. “That’s a good one, Dipper, but Bill’s been dead for _years_ now.  I’m gonna have to teach you how to come up with better practical jokes than that.  Gotta say, you almost had me there for a second though.”

“No, you guys,” Mabel stepped forward, “he isn’t messing around.  The first night we came here, Dipper saw that the statue was missing.”

The brothers’ faces fell as they exchanged glances.  All humor faded at that point. Mabel’s seriousness confirmed that Dipper’s words weren’t just a sick joke meant to pull a fast one over on their great uncles.

“Is… is that true?” Ford asked.  

“I thought Dipper was fooling with me too.  But then I went into the woods with him and we found New Guy - _Bill_ \- and brought him back here.”

Ford stepped forward.  “Show me.”

Dipper made a move towards the door but Ford stopped him.  “No. Stay here with Stanley and… whoever that is,” he motioned at the alleged demon.  “Mabel and I will go check it out.”

* * *

The ground was much the same as it had been the first night Dipper stumbled across it.  Scorched earth eclipsed the clearing in a perfect circle. It was strange that no grass had started growing there - only in the areas _outside_ of the ring - especially given the rain they’d been having lately.  

“This is what we found,” Mabel said simply.  She watched as Ford knelt down to inspect the dirt and prodded at his digital watch.  A low rumble of thunder groaned in the distance, echoing throughout the forest.

“This _is_ the spot that Bill’s statue should be in - I took note of the coordinates after it happened.”  He looked puzzled as he rubbed his chin in thought. Any hypotheses he came up with were full of holes and he could only speculate what had happened without any concrete evidence.  It didn’t make sense that after five years of lying dormant, the statue just suddenly disappeared.

He pulled a vial from the inside of his jacket and gathered a sample of the moist earth.  “We need to get back and share our findings.”

* * *

Stan and Dipper waited on pins and needles for Ford and Mabel to return.  Stan was eyeing the blonde man with an air of suspicion and Dipper didn’t like it one bit.  The elder nearly jumped down Ford and Mabel’s throats as they emerged through the door.

“Well, is it true? What happened?”

“I can’t say for sure if this truly is Bill, but the statue is no longer there,” Ford said.  

Dipper chimed in.  “Mabel and I thought that maybe we could help him.”

“Yeah, like try to give him a chance to redeem himself,” Mabel said.  

Ford studied Bill carefully.  “I suppose you could give it a try --”

While his brother kept an open mind, the missing statue was all the proof Stan needed to launch into attack mode.  “Are the three of you _really_ that stupid?  It’s just another trick, a way to get him to trust you!”

Bill raised both hands defensively.  “What, I --?”

Stan stepped forward, pointing an accusatory finger at the blonde.  “I’ve swindled my way to the top, so believe me when I say I know a con man when I see one!  He’s got the wool pulled so far over your eyes you might as well be sheep instead of people! Sheeple!”

Bill looked even more confused than when they’d found him in the woods that night.  He blinked with widened eyes at Stan’s outburst - the man had been so friendly towards him until he learned his true identity.  Now he was coming at him like he’d taken away everything Stan had ever loved...

Dipper tried to interject.  “Grunkle Stan --”  
  
“Can it, kid!”  He had backed Bill up against the wall now.  “All of the misery you put my family through - I should bash your goddamn face in!”  He raised the hand that sported a pair of brass knuckles to take a swing at Bill.

“Stanley, no!” Ford shouted.  He yanked his brother back and Dipper had to grab his other arm to keep him from lunging at Bill again.  

“Ugh, let me go!” He grunted.  “What’s wrong with all of you?! It’s _Bill_ for fuck’s sake!”  Stan turned his attention back to his target.  “You’re a lying son of a bitch! We opened our home to you, clothed and fed you, treated you like family -- this is all some kind of twisted plot to let him get into your heads!”

“Stanley that’s enough!” Ford shouted, stepping into his brother’s field of vision.  “Listen to me for once in your life. You could be right - maybe it _is_ some kind of elaborate scheme.  But there’s something I want to try first.  Dipper, Mabel, bring Bill down to the basement.  I’ll join you in a moment.”

* * *

Stan crossed his arms and kept a close eye on Bill as they stood in the hidden laboratory together.  After he and Ford had returned from their world travels, the brothers had gotten everything fully functioning again.  Most of the countertops were lined with elaborate scientific equipment and jars containing research specimens. The blonde was instructed to sit in a nearby chair in a separate room as Ford began his preparations.  

A well-lit desk sat off to the side with stacks of papers piled neatly on it.  “Bill was not the only demon I encountered during the thirty years I spent traversing dimensions,” Ford explained.  He flicked through a nearby filing cabinet until he found what he’d been searching for: the manila folder was labeled “DEMONS” and contained several pages worth of Ford’s handwriting.  The notes detailed everything from approximated heights and weights to origins and weaknesses. “I was able to obtain blood samples from some of the ones I crossed paths with. All of them contained a specific enzyme that is unique only to demonkind.”

Dipper and Mabel watched curiously as their uncle produced an empty hypodermic needle.  “I’m going to have to collect some blood so I can compare it against known samples.” Ford pulled on a pair of six-fingered nitrile gloves and moved into the room where Bill sat out of earshot.  Mabel, Stan, and Dipper watched through the large glass window as Ford leant down next to Bill’s chair to begin the procedure. “You’re going to feel a slight pinch.”

Bill watched as Ford carefully inserted the sharp syringe into one of his veins and red fluid began flooding into the vial.  Dipper had to look away - the sight of blood still made him squirm, whether it was his own or someone else’s. He felt Mabel rub his shoulder blade in a soothing manner and it helped calm him down a bit.  

“There,” Ford finally said.  He removed the needle from Bill’s arm and applied pressure to aid the clotting process.  The blood in the tube _looked_ like a normal person’s blood, but there was only one way to be absolutely sure.  “I’ll need to perform some tests on this. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours to create a complete profile.”

* * *

It felt like time had slowed to a crawl as Stan, Mabel, and Dipper sat slumped in their seats.  The steady whir of machinery and bubbling beakers had become an unconventional lullaby, carrying them all towards sleep.  

They all jumped in unison as a long sheet of paper began printing out of a nearby machine.  “The results are in,” Ford announced.

Dipper sat up straight.  “And?”

“I’ll need a moment to analyze them.  I’ll report back with the findings as soon as I’m finished.”  He swiveled the desk chair away from them and began circling different parts of the paper with red ink.

The three groaned their impatience as they waited again.  Fortunately it didn’t take nearly as long this time. Ford spun back around in his chair after a few moments, glancing over the paper one last time.        

“What did you find out?”  Dipper asked nervously.

“There are no traces of demon enzyme present.  He appears to be fully human.” The others let out a collective sigh of relief as they turned to look at Bill through the glass panel.  He glanced back at them questioningly, still unsure as to why they’d dragged him down here in the first place to stick a needle in his arm.   

Ford folded the analysis paper and placed it on his desk beside the “DEMONS” folder.  “I suppose we could continue with your plan to attempt to mold him while he’s in such an impressionable state.  It could be successful, just as long as he doesn’t regain any more of his memories.”

Mabel chirped up.  “So he doesn’t have his powers anymore?”

“No,” Ford said.  “He’s mortal now. Whatever happened between his death and his reappearance must have eliminated his demonic abilities.”

* * *

Nothing was said as the five ate dinner in silence.  Everyone picked at the mashed potatoes and roast on their plates half-heartedly as they took in the afternoon’s events.  Bill had tried to say something - tried to ask what was going on - but the Pines just kept their eyes downwards and ignored his questions.  Eventually he stopped trying to get answers as the tight feeling in his chest grew more and more overwhelming.

They all excused themselves from the table even though half of the food still remained untouched.  Mabel feigned a small smile as she went upstairs and the Grunkles busied themselves in the kitchen.  

“I dunno.  Something about this still doesn’t sit right with me,” Stan said as he scraped uneaten food into the garbage bin and stacked the plates in the sink to wash later.  It was concerning that his entire family was sticking up for the very being that had tried to eradicate them all only a few summers ago.

Just because Bill had lost his powers, that didn’t mean he was any less dangerous.

Ford nodded as he acknowledged his brother’s feelings.  After the events of Weirdmageddon, he was grateful to be alive and no longer encased in gold to be used as Bill’s personal back scratcher.  “Everything that happened was devastating for everyone involved.” All of them had suffered some degree of PTSD for a good while afterwards.  Dipper and Mabel both had a difficult time focusing in trigonometry class whenever the teacher drew an equilateral triangle on the whiteboard and the entire family had recurring nightmares.  It took a long time for things to feel normal again.

“I understand your concerns, Stanley, and it’s not that I disagree with them.  We’ll just have to keep a close eye on Bill, even if he _is_ a blank slate now.  There’s no telling if he’ll regain his memories and lash out.  But we’ll be prepared if that should ever happen.” Ford shifted his overcoat to reveal the high-tech gun holstered at his hip.  

“I’m just worried about the kids. He’s been spending an awful lot of time with ‘em.  But I’ll kill that motherfucker if he even _thinks_ about laying a hand on them…”

Ford nodded his agreement.  “And I’ll be right behind you.”

* * *

As Dipper pushed his chair back into the table and made a move to leave, Bill suddenly crowded his personal space.  They were alone together in the dining room and he had to try and get some kind of answer. “Why is everyone treating me like some sort of villain?”  Bill didn’t realize just how true those words actually were. He only knew that all of the mixed signals were breaking his heart. “Dipper, please. I just want to talk to you.”

Dipper chewed his lower lip and chose his next words carefully.  “My family and you… didn’t exactly get along. That’s why they were upset.”  He didn’t want to go into any further details out of fear of triggering Bill’s memories.  It was best to leave it buried in the past.

“Is that why you’ve been having second thoughts?”

“It’s not that I’m having second thoughts exactly, it’s just… I’m trying to process all of this.  It’s hard to take in.”

“Dipper…”  Bill reached out to run a hand over his cheek but the brunette stepped away.

“Please don’t,” he whispered, recoiling from Bill’s touch.  His dark eyes were full of sadness and it made Bill’s heart begin to crack in half.  “I just need some personal space right now.”

“But --”

“Please just leave me alone for a while.”

As Dipper turned and disappeared upstairs, Bill felt his heart split completely in two.


	8. Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important Note: Starting May 25th, I will be gone on vacation until around June 3rd, so this will be the last chapter for a little while. Therefore, I decided to make it a bit longer than normal so you can all have your fill of BillDip. I will do my best to read and reply to comments while I'm away, but no chapters will be added in that time - sorry! I hope you all understand and enjoy what I've posted here today <3

Dipper had asked for space so that’s exactly what he’d given him.  For the next few days, Bill hardly left his room except to root around the pantry for snacks and to shower and use the toilet.  He didn’t bother coming to dinner and no one invited him either. They were all still acting standoffish around him and it lead to him feeling ostracized and unwanted.  A heavy weight settled in his chest and caused an all-consuming sadness to overwhelm him. He now understood the concept of depression and he absolutely hated the way he was feeling.

Perhaps accepting the Pines family’s help that night was a big mistake.

He was laying on his side in the darkness when a knock came at the door.  The creaking hinges echoed loudly as someone poked their head inside; he hadn’t bothered to lock it because no one was interested in speaking with him anyway.

Bill couldn’t see who it was because his back was turned to the door, but he honestly didn’t care.  “What is it?” he muttered, wishing they’d just leave him alone.

“Hey, can we talk?”  

Dipper’s voice struck him straight in the gut.  As much as he would’ve loved to see that beautiful face again, Bill made no move to turn towards the boy.  Instead, he continued to stare blankly at the wall and wished more than ever that he could fade out of existence.  

He both felt and heard the bed depress as Dipper sat across from him.  “Bill?” The brunette touched his shoulder but Bill flinched and scooted away.  

“You wanted space so I’m giving it to you.”  It was a fruitless effort, trying to hide the hurt in his voice but he still attempted it anyway.  “You pushed me away so I’m _staying away_.”  He curled further into the blanket he lay beneath and felt tears burning as they welled at the corner of his eyes.

Guilt overwhelmed Dipper as Bill’s body began to shake with silent sobs.  He hated himself for making Bill feel so broken and confused, even though Dipper had felt the exact same way not long ago.  He’d had time to think and was able to come to terms with his feelings, but at the cost of Bill’s own happiness. The situation flat out sucked and he prayed they would be able to move past it.

“I know, but I --”   

“What do you _want_ , Dipper?”  Bill sat up and faced him and even in the absence of light, Dipper could see the shiny trails running from his eyes, glinting in the moonlight.  “You can’t just lead me on and then throw me away!” He was shouting now and Dipper didn’t stop him because he honestly deserved to be yelled at.  “Why is everyone still avoiding me? What did I do to make all of you hate me so much?!”

“Bill, we don’t all hate you.”

He let out a sarcastic snort at that.  “Hah, you could’ve fooled me.”

“Bill, please,” Dipper beseeched, reaching out for the man’s arms.  Bill didn’t know why, but he let the boy touch him and decided to allow him to say his piece. “It’s… I can’t fully explain it.  But my family didn’t like the person you used to be. I won’t lie; the things you did before, they were pretty fucking horrible.  But they’re in the past now - you’re like a brand new person and I’m trying to make them see that.” A sigh tumbled past his lips as he poured his heart out.  “Mabel always says everyone deserves a second chance. I always thought she was just being overly trusting of people but I understand it now.” He paused to wipe away the tears escaping from Bill’s dulled eyes.  The bright golden color Dipper saw in his dreams was gone and he’d never stop feeling like a piece of shit for putting him through this kind of hell. “I’ve had time to think and I’ve made some conclusions. I really, _really_ hope you can forgive me, but I’ll understand if you can’t.  I just want you to know that I still want you - if you want me too, that is.”

Bill’s hard glare softened as Dipper spilled his guts.  All of the anger, resentment, and sorrow he’d experienced slowly ebbed away and his chest cavity was replaced with a mild ache.  Dipper slid a hand up Bill’s arm to settle against his shoulder.

“I think I’m in love with you, Bill.”

The words punched the air out of both of them and suddenly it felt like neither could breathe.  There was no taking it back now that he’d said it, but Dipper didn’t want to. He needed Bill to know that he’d chosen him; he’d choose him over and over again if it came down to it.  The irony that he’d fallen in love with his sworn enemy was something Dipper had acknowledged and managed to put aside. Someone he should’ve hated with every fiber of his being had turned into someone he couldn’t live his life without.

Just as Dipper had broken his heart with a few words, he’d made it whole again.  The cracks were still there - they’d never fully heal. But Bill couldn’t deny that he had also fallen for the brunette and if it meant he’d end up heartbroken again someday, well then, he was willing to take that risk and deal with the consequences when they came.  He wrapped his arms around Dipper’s neck and pulled him close.

“I love you too.”

They were kissing and it felt like they’d never missed a beat.  Dipper’s plush petals felt like they were molded to fit against Bill’s lips and it made his entire body shiver.  He’d missed him, missed this, so much - even just having Dipper in close proximity caused his heart to swell to twice its size.  

The blonde pulled back and cupped Dipper’s face in his palms.  There was one thing he had left to say before they went too far.  “Just swear to me you’ll never push me away, Dipper. I don’t ever want to feel like this again.”

“I promise, Bill,” Dipper said, fingers tangling in the black curls at the base of his neck.  “I hate myself for hurting you. I’m such a fucking idiot. I never want to give any of this up.”  More sweet kisses chased his words and he knew that tonight they’d finally crossed the line they’d been dancing around for so long.  He felt like a sinner coming clean about the secrets of his past and having forgiveness granted upon him; waves of pure bliss settled over Dipper and left him feeling peaceful.

After a moment, he spoke again.  “Soos and Melody are getting married in a few days and I wanted to ask if you’d be my date for the wedding.  In secret of course - I’m still not ready for the world to know.”

“Yes,” Bill said.  “Yes, Dipper.” He wrapped the brunette in a tight embrace and Dipper felt his heart thud dully against his chest.  He breathed in Bill’s scent and felt the oxytocin running through his body. He could stay like this forever, cradling Bill in his arms.  He’d fallen so hard for this man, lust giving way to love. He’d never experienced anything like it before and maybe never would again.

* * *

The entire town of Gravity Falls was milling around like busy little worker ants.  Today was July 4th, and that meant the afternoon would be spent celebrating Independence Day with loved ones and eating lots of delicious food.

The Pines family had already gotten a headstart on the holiday festivities.  Stan donned a festive apron and dubbed himself “Grillmaster” for the day. He’d also be taking up the role of “Launchmaster” later that night when it was dark enough to shoot illegally-obtained projectiles into the air.  Ford had formulated a chemical that when added to the fireworks’ mixture of potassium nitrate would allow them to appear brighter and more vibrant than usual - finally putting his scientific prowess to good use, as Stan teased him earlier.  Everyone was in good spirits and looking forward to what the day would bring.

As she stepped into the sunlight, Mabel slid on a pair of red star-shaped sunglasses to complete her look.  She was decked out in patriotic colors from head to toe, from her striped headband all the way down to the navy blue flip flops that showed off her red and white toenail polish. 

“Happy 4th of July, Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford!”  She trapped each of them with a hug, narrowly missing catching her long hair on fire on Stan’s gas grill.  “Whoopsy, that could’ve been a real downer,” she laughed as she noticed her mistake and stepped backwards. Ford probably would’ve shot her with the fire extinguisher he’d dragged out for the fireworks display later, but Mabel really didn’t want to get coated with chemical residue and have to go inside to clean up and risk missing out on the fun.

She turned to inspect the clearing.  Last night, she’d cajoled Dipper and Bill into helping her set up decorations and games in the yard.  Cornhole, ring toss and lawn Twister to name a few. Tree branches were lined with streamers and paper lanterns all in festive hues emulating the American flag.  Patriotic bunting lined the porch railings and gave the Shack’s wooden facade a pop of color. She grinned and allowed herself to feel proud of the work they had done.    

Several folding tables placed near Stan’s grill intended to act as a makeshift buffet at dinner time.  Once everyone was gathered together, all of the dishes would be brought out and the feasting could begin.  Two picnic tables shoved tight against each other would act as one giant dining surface. The red and white gingham tablecloths were weighted down with rocks Mabel had found in the woods.  Her personal craft had been painting and glitterifying them to make them look more like premium party decorations and less like they’d been laying near a stream for the past decade.

Finally, they’d positioned lawn chairs in a neat row for viewing the fireworks display later that night.  Grunkle Stan always found ways to circumvent the government and this time he’d managed to get his hands on a massive cart of fireworks.  Most of them were outlawed in twenty-nine of the fifty states, but when Dipper pointed it out, Stan just shrugged and proclaimed, “So? Laws have never stopped me before!”  

An old pick-up kicked up rocks as it entered the parking lot.  Soos and Melody arrived carrying several casserole dishes and glass bowls covered with plastic wrap.  “Hellloooo, everyone,” she sang out.

“Where do ya want us to put all these amazing foods we made?” Soos asked.

“Kitchen,” Stan called over his shoulder.  He was currently fighting with the plastic packaging on a packet of hot dogs, trying to tear it open using his teeth.  Ford stepped in and grabbed the package from Stanley’s hands and produced a pair of scissors from his jacket. “Thanks,” Stan grunted and began laying the meat out to cook.

“Here, honey,” Melody said.  She handed Soos a bowl of potato salad mixed with mayonnaise and bacon bits.  “Stick this in the fridge until later, okay?”

“Sure thing, babe.”  He kissed her cheek and went inside to put the food away.  Melody set the items that didn’t need to be refrigerated on the folding tables and went to work sorting them.  She laid out hummus and veggies next to bowls of potato chips and pretzels and made a separate section for desserts.  Mabel had already placed her firecracker cupcakes (complete with hollowed out centers filled with Pop Rocks) onto the table so Melody slid a plate of her homemade chocolate chip cookies beside them.  

“Ooh those look amazing.”  Stan grabbed one of the sweets and shoved it in his mouth, the dough and chocolate softening as he chewed.  He smiled as he flipped the hot dogs over. Three of his four favorite ‘F’ words were all in one place: family, friends, and food.  Today truly was a great day.

* * *

Inside of the Mystery Shack, Bill and Dipper took their time getting ready.  While the rest of the family was attending to preparations on the lawn, they took the opportunity to dress themselves while exchanging kisses and soft touches.  

“What’s all of the fuss about today?” Bill asked, pulling on a pair of Dipper’s jeans.  He no longer needed to cinch a belt around them - staying with the Pines family, he’d gained a few pounds and now filled out the clothing nicely.  His ribs were no longer visible and he actually looked healthy now.

Dipper smiled as he watched the blonde. “We’re celebrating the birth of America.”

Bill wasn’t sure how it was physically possible for a country to be born, but he went along with it anyway; Dipper was intelligent and he trusted his words wholeheartedly.

“It’s basically just a big picnic and there’ll be lots of new foods for you to try.”  

Bill’s stomach clenched at the mention of food.  They hadn’t eaten breakfast this morning and he’d skipped dinner last night, so to say he was ravished was the understatement of the year.

His boyfriend loved to eat and it was probably his favorite hobby.

 _Boyfriend_.  The word echoed in Dipper’s mind and he felt a swell of pride.  Bill had agreed to be his boyfriend and it was nice to finally make their relationship somewhat official, even if they were the only ones who knew about it.  

Dipper glanced at the two of them in the mirror.  They were dressed in reds and blues but nowhere to the extent Mabel was.  She always went overboard and didn’t care if it was too much. That morning, Dipper had even talked her out of attaching lit sparklers to her headband.  Her heart often overruled her logic and he made a point of explaining that she’d be recreating the Burning Man effigy but with her own flesh instead of wood.

Fire and Mabel did not mix.  

Bill slunk up behind Dipper and wrapped his arms around him as they eyed their reflections.  There was a minute height difference between them but not enough to be blatantly obvious. Dipper was an inch or two shorter but he honestly didn’t mind.  Actually he almost found pleasure in it. Bill’s warm breath came at his ear and made his knees turn to jelly. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Dipper spun around so that they were face to face.  “Bill…” He took that gorgeous face in his hands and locked eyes with him.  Somehow the blonde made him feel like a lovestruck middle school girl who devolved into a puddle whenever her crush walked by.  His heart pounded and his brain short circuited whenever he came around. It felt like Dipper was the protagonist of a sappy 80’s romance film but in the best sort of way.

The brim of the baseball cap he’d been wearing bumped against Bill’s forehead as they kissed, causing it to fall to the floor.  It was forgotten as they melted into each other, lips moving together slowly and carefully. It was unlike all of the previous kisses they’d shared - those had been desperate and sexually charged.  This time it was fueled by love.

The blonde stroked soothing circles into Dipper’s lower back, causing the younger to moan softly.  The tender touches caused hot tingles to radiate all over his body as goosebumps formed. His hands slid from Bill’s cheeks to the back of his neck and he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping tattooed arms around him and pulling the man closer.    

Dipper tilted his head as the kiss deepened, wet caresses intensifying as they flicked their tongues together.  The deep intimacy of it all caused embers to flare deep in their tummies. The idea that it was _Bill Cipher_ he was kissing excited Dipper to no end.

Eventually the need for air turned urgent.  Dipper pulled away with a thin strand of saliva connecting his lips to Bill’s.  The older man traced Dipper’s kiss-swollen mouth, breaking the bridge between them.  His thumb lingered on the boy’s lower lip and he pulled it down seductively. “I’d love to see what else you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

“Hmm, maybe I’ll show you later.”  With a wink, he bent down to retrieve his hat and affix it atop the dark mass of curls.  As much as both wanted to keep going, Dipper knew that the others would come looking for them if they stalled much longer.

They exited Bill’s room and were passing by the kitchen when Dipper noticed Soos depositing food into the fridge for later.  Melody was now inside cutting strawberries and watermelon and arranging them around a circular tray.

“Go ahead outside,” Dipper whispered.  “I just want to talk to Soos and Melody quick and then I’ll be out.”

Bill nodded and walked away as Dipper entered the kitchen.  “Hey guys, do you have a second?”

“Yeah, of course,” Melody said, continuing to prepare her fruit tray.  She opened a carton of blueberries and rinsed them off in the sink.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m bringing Bill as my plus one.”

“Bill who?” Soos asked, closing the fridge door and turning to face him.  Dipper realized in that moment that Grunkle Stan had failed to mention exactly who their special houseguest was.

“The blonde guy that’s been hanging around?  That’s Bill Cipher.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Soos said, “ ** _wait_**.  That’s _Bill_?  The evil floaty triangle demon?”

A chill ran down Melody’s spine and she clutched the knife tightly in her fist.  While she hadn’t been present for Weirdmageddon, Soos had told her all kinds of terrifying stories. “Dipper, I don’t think that’s such a good idea…”

“I won’t let him hurt anyone.  I promise. It’s… complicated, but Grunkle Ford determined that he’s pretty much harmless now.”

Soos and Melody exchanged worried glances.  

“He’ll be on his best behavior.”

“I’m honestly not crazy about the idea, but if you’re _sure_ he won’t ruin the ceremony, then… I guess it’s all right…”

“Melody, are you _sure_?”

“No, but Dipper seems to be.  I won’t say no, but if he tries to cause any trouble…”

“I know, I know.”  Stan and Ford would probably subdue Bill and hold him at gunpoint if Melody didn’t beat them to it.  Like any bride to be, she wanted the day to be absolutely perfect and go off without a hitch. He honestly couldn’t blame her one bit.  “Everything will be fine.”

* * *

“Food time!” Stan announced, both hands full as he carried plates of grilled meats over to the buffet table.  The smell of hot dogs and hamburgers was enticing as it wafted through the air.

Mabel was right behind Stan, eager to dig in.  “All of this looks so good!” She plopped a large spoonful of Melody’s potato salad onto her plate, followed by mashed potatoes and corn on the cob.  By the time she was finished, Mabel was carrying three plates piled high with a variety of foods.

She took a seat at the picnic table and arranged her feast on the red and white gingham tablecloth: meats, then side dishes, and finally, desserts.

Dipper watched as Mabel shoveled food into her face.  His sister was one of those people who could finish off an entire buffet by herself and never gain much weight.  She’d certainly been blessed in the metabolism department. “Let’s go up,” he said. Bill had been sitting next to him at the picnic table and didn’t need to be told twice that it was time to eat.  

He’d opted for the burger - of course - and also needed additional plates the same as Mabel had.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dipper caught Melody pulling Stan and Ford aside and he knew right away that it had to do with Bill.  The three spoke in hushed tones and there was a lot of nodding happening. Melody only appeared _slightly_ less concerned than she had looked before speaking to them and Dipper knew she was still worried about having the ex-demon at her wedding.

He turned his attention back to the spread in front of him and chose from the selection.  They sat on the bench across from Mabel who was chewing her cob of corn like a beaver gnawing wood.  Soon after, Melody and the Grunkles joined them and the entire family settled in for a meal together.    

Soos and Melody sat side by side, giggling as they ate.  There were only ten days left until she’d become Mrs. Ramirez.  She couldn’t wait to spend the rest of their lives together. Soos would make a wonderful father someday.  He’d always be there for his kids unlike his own father. She felt bad for him, but soon enough he’d have Melody’s dad to act as a paternal figure - her family had taken Soos in as one of their own and it made her heart swell with elation.  They congratulated Melody on finding such a great guy - he may not have been a Harvard graduate or male model, but he treated her like she’d personally hung the moon and stars in the sky. It was plain to see just how much he adored her.

Stan faked a gagging sound as he stabbed at the pasta on his plate.  “Trying to eat over here, you two.”

“Aw, leave ‘em alone Grunkle Stan.  Just cause you’re a bitter, lonely old man doesn’t mean they should be miserable too,” Mabel winked.

“Hey, I am _not_ old,” he pointed his fork at her accusingly and Dipper laughed because out of all the derogatory things Mabel had said, he’d chosen to focus on the comment about his age.

“Stanley’s right,” Ford added. He clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “He’s not old. He’s ancient.”

“You’re older than I am!” Stan protested, slamming the end of his fork against the table.  “If I’m ancient, then you’re prehistoric.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Both of those terms mean the same thing.”

“You don’t make sense, Ford,” Stan rebutted, stuffing his mouth with food.  His older brother thought he was so smart, but Stan could dish out the insults too.  “Your face is so wrinkled you could stick it under a steam roller and it’d still look like a fucking prune.”

“I like your hair, Stanley. How’d you get it to grow out of your nose like that?”

The friendly roast-fest between the two continued for another good three minutes as everyone else laughed uproariously.  Mabel was shaking as she filmed the mock-argument on her phone and uploaded it straight to Facebook and Instagram with a single caption: #GrunkleFight!

* * *

It was getting dark out and the fireworks show was due to begin in about an hour.  In the meantime, Mabel suggested they all play a game of lawn Twister to both literally and physically bring them all closer together.

Two moves in, and Stan was regretting his decision to play.  His face was pressed directly into Soos’s sweaty armpit and his calves were cramping up.  He recalled bitterly that it had been way more fun when he was twenty years younger and surrounded with hot girls twining their bodies around him like vines.

“Okay, Mabel,” Ford said.  He flicked the spinner and watched as it landed on left foot, red.  He gave the instruction and watched as his niece struggled to cross her legs in an ‘x’ pattern, her right foot already braced on a green circle.  Somehow she managed to crunch herself into a pretzel and let out a victorious laugh.

“Ugh, can we hurry this up?!” Stan was sweating and pissed off. This had stopped being fun ten minutes ago.   

“It isn’t your turn, Stanley,” Ford chided.  He gave the board another spin and focused on Soos.  “Right hand, green.”

“Haha, that’s easy,” the man said - his hand had already been on a green spot, so he simply lifted it and put it back down in the same place.

“ _Now_ it’s your turn, Stanley.  Right foot, yellow.”

“What?!  That’s impossible!”  The move meant he’d have to somehow stretch over Mabel _and_ Soos without losing his balance.

“I don’t make the rules,” Ford shrugged.

“Yes you do!  You’re controlling the goddamn spinner!”

Ford tried his hardest not to snicker at his brother’s frustration.  Instead he remained calm as he asked, “are you going to take your turn or not?”

Stan grumbled curses under his breath as he tried to shift his partially-numb leg to the correct dot.  It was difficult enough to begin with, but factoring his age in on top of that made it feel like he was trying to climb Mount Everest using a toothpick and some dental floss.  

It was a valiant effort, but ultimately a fruitless one.  His back buckled and he hit the ground chest first, Soos and Mabel falling on top of him and knocking the wind from his lungs.      

Mabel pointed and laughed at the old man.  “Hah, you lose, Grunkle Stan!”

He bit back the urge to tell her he’d already lost just by agreeing to play with them.  “Looks like it, pumpkin.” The words came out punctuated with grunts as he tried to army crawl out from beneath the pile of dead weight pressing on his spine.  At this point, they’d technically all lost since everyone’s bodies had given out. Soos and Mabel took pity on the elder and lifted him to his feet. His leg was still numb to the point of feeling static-y pinpricks so he had to remain still for a moment before all feeling returned to his appendage.

“Melody, Bill, and Dipper, it’s your turn,” Ford said with a sweeping gesture to the ground that was spray-painted with colorful circles.

Bill understood the object of the game just from observing the others.  The last one to remain upright, no matter how much their muscles ached and spasmed, was the winner.

As they settled in to play, Ford read off the first moves. Dipper quickly found himself enjoying the game _way_ more than he should have.  The close contact with Bill was definitely enjoyable and best of all, he didn’t have to hide it this time. Brushing against him, arms tangling and sweat rolling down his temple, all under the guise of a friendly game of Twister.

Five moves in, Dipper’s head was essentially attached to Bill’s crotch, and as much as it hurt to stay propped up like this, he couldn’t find it in himself to complain.  It was all extremely sexual in his mind but everyone else besides himself and Bill found it to be innocent fun.

He jotted down a mental note to try this again with Bill in private, sans clothing.

If it weren’t for Melody arched perpendicularly across his back, Dipper would’ve forgotten that she was playing too.

He bent and grunted as Ford told him to place his right hand on blue. The entire game became more awkward as he reached backwards, nearly elbowing Melody in the face. “Sorry, sorry!”  He snaked his arm beneath her neck and completed his turn.

Bill’s whole body was cramping the longer they played.  It was painful but somehow still worth it to have Dipper spread on top of him like butter on toast.  He may or may not have purposely allowed his arms to give out just to make the brunette fall into his lap.

Despite this, Melody wobbled but managed to stay upright and Mabel dubbed her the Queen of Twister.  Even though she’d won, Bill and Dipper couldn’t help but feel like they’d won the game too.

* * *

Fireworks bloomed and glittered across the sky.  The deafening cracks emulated thunder and rocked the entire valley.  Craning one’s neck in any direction would allow them to see fireworks no matter where they looked  The entire town was getting in on the action, but Stan knew their chemically modified rockets would put the others to shame.   

“Yo, be careful!” Soos called out, his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the sound.  

The elder waved his hand dismissively as he set up a line of smaller, less impressive fireworks and began lighting the fuses.  “Yeah, yeah, this ain’t my first rodeo.” Ford sat nearby with his fire extinguisher in arm’s length just in case something went horribly wrong.  Stan had a tendency to get cocky with things like this and as much as Ford picked on him for it, he would never forgive himself for letting his baby brother get hurt.  

The tiny rockets crackled and burst in the air but Stan was only just getting started.  He had a few tricks up his sleeve - mainly a gargantuan cube-shaped firework called the Big Daddy - saved for the finale.  

The family sat in their lawn chairs, heads tilted slightly back so they could watch the display.  Mabel was already filming the scene on her phone but it could never hold a candle to the real deal.  

Fireworks from a nearby picnic were sent spiraling into the air, but they were puny and pathetic compared to Stan’s.  “Fuck you, how’s this for patriotic?!” He shouted as he released three fireworks at once. Each bursted in the sky and revealed they were shaped like red, white, and blue stars.  The colors were vibrant and oversaturated which made them all the more beautiful.

“Oooh, do more Grunkle Stan!” Mabel urged.

“Of course, sweetie.”  Stan fired a few more of the smaller projectiles until he was all out and had to move onto the medium-sized rockets.  

Dipper scanned the row of faces and saw that they were all preoccupied by the fantastic display Grunkle Stan was putting on. Contented, he leaned over into Bill’s personal space and stole a kiss. It was much too brief for either of their liking, but even that quick gesture was insanely risky.  He wished that no one else was around and that it could be just the two of them kissing as multi-colored sparkles rained down overhead.

Stan’s show lasted a good fifteen minutes and definitely humiliated everyone else who thought their fireworks were somewhat decent.

“These are better than Disney!” Mabel exclaimed, her eyes impossibly wide and her smile even wider.  Dipper had to agree with her on that. Whatever Ford had done to alter the chemical makeup had been extremely successful.  

The finale was capped off with the Big Daddy rocket which turned out to be more like an atom bomb as it lit up the entire sky like a violent burst of lightning.  Everyone within a two mile vicinity went momentarily deaf as the ground shook like an earthquake clocking in at an eight on the Richter scale. The intense explosion caused car alarms to begin blaring all over town.

It made sense now why Stan had smuggled it across the Oregon border at three in the morning.

“Whoo-hoo!  That’s what I’m talkin’ about baby!” He screamed as everyone’s ears rang and their hearing returned to normal.  The family echoed his cheers, clapping and whistling to show their appreciation.

Stan had certainly outdone himself this year and gone out with a bang.

* * *

Once all of the food was cleaned up and the leftovers neatly stacked away, everyone retreated to bed.  Dipper climbed beneath his covers and waited until Mabel was snoring before creeping back downstairs. He knew Bill would be awake and waiting at the rendezvous point they agreed on earlier.

Dipper knocked a repetitive tune against the frame of the bathroom door and Bill pulled him inside.  He made sure the door was latched behind them before stripping and stepping into the bathtub.

Dipper eagerly peeled his clothing off and joined Bill in the shower.  It was the first time they’d seen each other naked and the brunette felt himself shying away under Bill’s gaze.  

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Bill said. He stepped forward to touch Dipper as the warm spray of water cascaded over their skin.

The bathroom was already becoming hot and steamy and they’d barely been in two minutes.  Dipper exhaled sighs as Bill’s arms encircled him much like they’d done earlier that morning.  Under those hands - the very ones that were stained with violence, chaos, and murder - Dipper felt... safe.  He couldn’t explain it, but he trusted Bill more than he ever should have.

Dipper reached for a bottle of shower gel he’d brought from home and squeezed a decent amount in his hands. He went to work spreading the vanilla-scented soap across the flat planes of Bill’s chest and back and stroking up his biceps.  He’d stopped caring long ago about what scents qualified as ‘manly’ and which didn’t and just used whatever made his skin feel soft and clean.

Bill returned the favor, massaging Dipper with the sweet-smelling suds.  They explored each other’s bodies for the very first time, mapping every muscle and birthmark with the pads of their fingers.       

When a soapy digit pressed against his rim, Dipper recoiled.  Bill looked surprised as he asked what was wrong - it seemed like the next logical step but Dipper shook his head and bit down on his lip.

“I’m not comfortable with that yet,” he admitted quietly.  Dipper had watched enough porn to know that being fingered felt amazing, straight, gay, or anything else in between.  But his fears were bubbling to the surface again at the idea of pain. He’d never had anything in _that_ area before, despite fantasizing about it thousands of times.

But thoughts were different than actions and it still unnerved him.

“I _can_ give you something else though.”  He settled into his knees in front of Bill until his face was crotch height.  Dipper still felt bad about causing Bill to fall into a dark depression and now he only wanted to bring him pleasure.

As he reached for Bill’s half-hard cock, Dipper suddenly had a brief moment of self doubt.

 _You don’t know what you’re doing!_ his mind screamed. And while that was true, Dipper wasn’t stupid and knew how blowjobs worked.

He steeled himself and leaned forward, experimentally licking Bill’s tip.  The sharp gasp that was drawn from his boyfriend’s lips encouraged him to keep going.  He pressed his tongue into the slit where bitter fluid was beginning to pool and carefully coaxed it out.  The taste was odd at first but he quickly got used to it and sucked the head into his mouth, sweeping over it with his flattened tongue.

Any initial apprehension Dipper had quickly faded away as he allowed his own instinct and Bill’s hands to guide him.  The man’s fingers threaded themselves into his wet curls, not forcefully but enough to urge Dipper to continue.

He was about halfway down Bill’s length, breathing heavily through his nose, when his gag reflex kicked in.  Dipper had to retreat to avoid vomiting everywhere; even though the water would wash it away, he wasn’t about to embarrass himself like that. With a deep breath, he tried again, sliding Bill back into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks.  His hand stroked the small bit he was unable to swallow and he went to work, implementing a languid pace.

As unskilled as Dipper was, Bill found his efforts endearing.  And whether amateur or professional, just seeing the younger man on his knees was making his stomach do flips.  This was the first time he was receiving oral and the sensations were intense. He’d only ever touched himself, but that simply couldn’t compare to a hot cavern and eager lips.

Dipper bobbed his head, increasing the initial pace he’d set. He was getting more comfortable with the weight of Bill’s dick heavy against his tongue and ventured down to suck at his balls.  He laved each in turn, pulling moans from deep inside the man’s chest.

Dipper allowed his ego to be stroked with each word of praise that fell from Bill’s lips.  “Fuck, Dipper. I wish you could see yourself right now.” Brown eyes cracked open and he looked up at Bill, wet droplets clinging to his eyelashes as he took the blonde’s cock back into his mouth.  Bill wasn’t exactly an eyesore either, that sharp gaze drinking in every single ministration as warm water cascaded over their bodies in sheets.

Dipper’s knees were starting to hurt from the harsh surface of the porcelain tub, but he was determined to see the job through.  He sucked and slurped enthusiastically, still partially wondering if it was all a perfect daydream.

Bill’s hands felt real as they tugged at his hair and the lightning that shot down Dipper’s spine was real, too.  The soft sounds Bill was making spurred him on. He pulled off of Bill’s dick with a pop and licked broad stripes from base to tip.  Eyes half lidded, he made sure to give Bill a show and flicked his tongue against the frenulum.

“Oh _fuck_ , keep doing that and I’m gonna come.”  Bill was panting above him and it only made Dipper want to pull him apart even more.  He repeated the action several times, smirking as he watched and felt the way it made Bill tremble.  

He wrapped his lips back around his cock, the hedonistic pleasure not only reserved for Bill. Dipper was finding a lot of enjoyment in this and didn’t want to stop.  Undoing the blonde with his mouth and hands was something he only could’ve dreamt about weeks ago. Now here he was, on his knees before the man, reducing him to a shaking mess in the most sensual of ways.

He began moaning around the length in his mouth and the vibrations sent delightful jolts of pleasure crashing into Bill.  He was cresting quickly and didn’t give Dipper much warning before his mouth was flooded with the man’s seed. He sucked him through his orgasm, listening to Bill’s heavy panting as he rode out the aftershocks.

The blonde pulled out, leaving Dipper with a choice. He hesitated as cum trickled from the corner of his mouth, unsure if he should spit or swallow.

The decision was made for him as Bill lifted him to his feet and pushed his tongue inside Dipper’s mouth.  His own cock throbbed as Bill savored the taste of his essence mixed with Dipper. It was hot and sloppy and overwhelmingly erotic.

Things were made even better when Bill grabbed his cock and began to jerk him off in quick movements.  The easy glide of his hand was due in part to the shower but also because of the pre-cum that oozed from Dipper’s slit.  

“You’re so good for me, baby boy,” Bill purred in his ear. His breath was hot and raspy and did _things_ to Dipper — namely causing him to grow harder with each slippery, wet stroke.

He groaned as Bill yanked his head back and began sucking hickies into his collarbone.  Dipper was grateful he’d had enough sense to leave them in an easily-concealed area because right now his only thoughts were a chanted mantra of Bill’s name and _fuck, so good, moremoremoremoremore!_

It didn’t take much for him to spiral towards completion - not with Bill murmuring dirty praise in his ear and flicking his wrist _just like that_.  Dipper fucked his fist and dropped his head against Bill’s shoulder as the tightening in his stomach became unbearable.  “Oh fuck, gonna come!” He bit down against Bill’s shoulder to muffle his screams of pleasure as he released all over the blonde’s hand.  Bill continued stroking him through it all until he was hypersensitive and couldn’t take it anymore.

They kissed lazily, blissed out after their dual orgasms.  It was hard to move after something so intense, but eventually Bill turned the water off and helped Dipper out of the shower.  Both wrapped themselves in large fluffy towels and began drying off.

A wave of cold air prickled his flesh as Dipper opened the bathroom door and slid out into the hallway.  He waited for Bill to finish getting dressed. The older man flicked the light off and left the bathroom the same way they had found it before Dipper pressed one last kiss to his cheek.

The two walked in silence, lost in their thoughts. Dipper would love nothing more than post-coital cuddles but unfortunately he knew that wasn’t going to happen tonight.  Still, he was contented with the fact that the _real_ fireworks had just taken place in the bathroom of the Mystery Shack.

Bill paused in front of his door. “Goodnight, Dipper.  Sleep well.”

There was no doubt about that.  His eyes were already becoming weighted down. “Night, Bill.” He watched as the man smiled and slipped inside before returning to his own bed.  Mabel was still snoring obnoxiously and he reached into the bedside table to fish out some earplugs. With the sound muffled considerably, Dipper tugged his comforter up to his neck and drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betcha can't guess what Grunkle Stan's 4th favorite F word is ;)
> 
> Comments and suggestions appreciated as always <3 I love you all! Thanks so much for supporting me this far. I'll see you at the start of June with Chapter 9!


	9. Gravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to have kept all of you waiting for so long! Vacation was decent but I've been having some terrible anxiety lately over personal things and it prevented me from getting this chapter up sooner than intended. I'll try my best to write more as soon as I can! 
> 
> Also, Grunkle Stan's poem thingy isn't mine - I found it online but I thought it was just too perfect not to use xD Hmm I think that's everything I wanted to say, I'll edit if I think of anything else :)
> 
> Aaaaahhh how could I forget?! HAPPY PRIDE MONTH! I myself am a straight supporter but I have lots of friends in the LGBTQ+ community who are absolutely amazing people. I love you all!
> 
> And now, onto the wedding!

Dipper’s breath caught in his throat as Bill stepped into view.  He was wearing the exact same suit and vest they’d found him in that fateful night, albeit without mud splotches since Mabel had dropped it off at the dry cleaners earlier that week.  Soos and Melody’s wedding was slated for three that afternoon, giving them only an hour to finish getting ready and cram into Stan’s car to head over to the venue. Dipper straightened his bow tie, the material feeling way too tight as Bill approached.  Whether it really was, or if it was simply due to the man’s presence, he didn’t know.

“Dipper… you look very handsome.”

“Yeah,” he was completely breathless now. “You do too.”

Maybe someday they’d see each other like this again, mirroring each other from across the altar as they exchanged vows of their own. But as far as everyone knew, Bill was just a friend that Dipper had invited along for a fun evening; they would’ve never guessed the two were actually concealing an intimate relationship.  

Grunkle Stan stepped into the hallway, tugging at the material of his trousers.  “Ugh, this suit makes my ass look like the broad side of a barn.” He grunted as he scrutinized himself in the full-length mirror.  Ford was always trying to get him to adopt a healthier diet, but at his age, Stan could give a flying fuck. He’d petitioned to wear his usual Mystery Shack ensemble, but his prude older brother insisted he trade in the frayed and stained cloth for a tailored three piece.  He’d also lost the argument on wearing his fez, because apparently it looked ‘too obnoxious for a formal setting.’

“If you gave up the beer and fattening snacks that wouldn’t be the case, Stanley,” Ford chided as he appeared next to his disgruntled brother.  Dipper had never seen Ford wearing anything other than a turtleneck before. Dressed similarly and devoid of their distinguishing clothes, it was almost impossible to tell the two of them apart - aside from a few pounds and Ford’s extra fingers, of course.  To anyone else, they looked perfectly identical.

“Now just listen here, Ford --”

“Grunkle Stan, don’t even start,” Dipper said, stepping between the two before another argument could break out.  As much as the brothers loved each other and were thankful to be reunited, it never stopped them from bickering like children.  “Let’s just get going before we’re late.”

* * *

The red car came to a halt in the parking lot of the tiny white church.  It was located at the edge of the town square where the statue of faux-founder Nathaniel Northwest towered in the afternoon sun.  The four made their way inside, bumping elbows with other close friends and family members as they settled into the long, padded benches.  Mabel had been picked up earlier that morning by Melody’s other bridesmaids and was getting ready in a separate location. It was probably for the better, because Dipper knew she was excited beyond belief and would’ve annoyed the hell out of them the whole day.  He adored his sister and would do anything for her, but Mabel had a tendency to go completely overboard without realizing that it could grate on other people’s nerves.

His eyes drifted around the small room that had been decorated in hues of blush pink and navy blue.  It was hardly extravagant, but that was the theme they had been trying to achieve. _“Nothing fancy, just love,”_ Melody had said earlier that week.  The aisle was simplistic with a plain white runner and tulle draped along the ends of the pews.  It didn’t need to be over the top for Melody to be happy, but the room was still beautiful with its old architecture and giant stained glass window overlooking the altar.     

What the guests weren’t privy to was that Soos’s nerves had kicked in ten minutes ago.  He had to change into an emergency spare button-down shirt due to how profusely he was sweating.  It was a fairly warm day and the church lacked a decent air conditioning system, but that wasn’t the reason he was currently drenched in his own perspiration.    

He wasn’t sure why the anxiety had kicked in - Melody loved him no matter what and that would never change.  Perhaps it was simply the fact that things were about to become official in front of all of their family members and friends.  He patted his head with a handkerchief that one of Melody’s brothers handed to him with a ‘thanks dude’ and tried to put aside his fear.  He pictured himself as a video game protagonist about to marry the beautiful princess he’d just saved, and that was somehow enough to bolster his confidence as he stepped through the massive wooden doors and waited for his cue.

Everyone turned in their seats as the procession began.  Organ music played as Melody’s mother, then the officiant, made their way into the ceremony space.  Next came Melody’s oldest brother (the best man) and Soos, who had finally braced himself enough to keep from looking like a panicked animal.  After them came the two pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen, arm-in-arm down the aisle. Her second-oldest brother was first with a curvy redhead - another of her childhood friends.  Lastly was Melody’s youngest brother with Mabel at his side, the young woman flashing an insanely huge smile at the crowd. Dipper had to admit she looked lovely in her pale pink gown, clutching a bouquet in her left hand and her long hair flowing down her back with tiny braids crowning her temples.

Next was the maid of honor, a tall black woman with gorgeous curly hair that Melody had known since third grade.  She took her place across from the best man and waited patiently as the procession continued. An adorable little flower girl trailed right behind the ringbearer, throwing rose petals haphazardly at her feet.  She was no more than four years old and was the daughter of Melody’s oldest brother.

When they were all in place, the organ music transitioned from Pachelbel’s ‘Canon in D Major’ to ‘Here Comes the Bride’ and everyone stood as they faced the church entrance.  Melody’s dress was flowy with an empire waist, best suited for her body type. Her long curls were pinned into a bun with a few strands hanging loose to frame her face and the tasteful makeup adorning it.  She had always been naturally pretty but today she looked _stunning_.  A lengthy veil billowed behind her as she walked together with her father and cameras captured the absolute joy written all over her face.   

The crowd let out a collective “awww” as Soos wiped tears from his eyes.  He met Melody and her father in the center of the room, where her father joined their hands together in a silent blessing before taking a seat next to her mom.  Melody stood across from Soos, her own tears threatening to spill.

The day had finally come and it felt so surreal right up until this very moment.

If anyone ever said anything, Grunkle Stan was totally _not_ bawling his eyes out.  Ford passed some tissues over and was most definitely not wiping away his own tears.  Despite not knowing Soos and Melody for as long as the others, the couple had grown on him like clusters of hyphae permeating a loaf of stale bread.

As the officiant began speaking and urging all of the guests to be seated, Bill leaned over and whispered in Dipper’s ear.  “Maybe that’ll be us someday.”

Dipper could only smile and pray that those words held true.  

* * *

The wedding reception was held in a converted barn across town.  The restored brick and wood interior was undoubtedly rustic, yet still held a certain elegance.  Fairy lights were strewn across exposed beams and rafters and trailed down the wooden columns, providing a romantic and subtle glow.  The space was arranged to hold eight round tables with six chairs each, and towards the back of the room was the wedding party’s table.  Mabel and the other bridesmaids would be at one end and the groomsmen on the other, while Melody and Soos were due to occupy the centermost seats.  Cocktail hour had just begun and the actual reception would start around 4:30, after the wedding party returned from a photography session at the park.  

Waiters navigated around the guests, sporting trays of appetizers.  Melody and Soos had elected for simplistic foods that were sure to be crowd-pleasers rather than more expensive hors d'oeuvres like shrimp and pâté on baguette crostinis.  Instead there were mini grilled cheeses with tomato soup shots, slider burgers, and tiny meatballs on toothpicks. Guests were also milling about the cash bar and ordering the bride and groom’s signature drinks: Melody had opted for a pink champagne punch, while Soos favored a sour green apple drink that reminded him of a health potion from one of his favorite fantasy series.    

Bill hung close to Dipper, comforted by his presence.  He’d never seen these people in his life - at least not that he could remember.  In reality, a lot of them were strangers even to Dipper - most of the guests were friends and family from Melody’s side with a few of Soos’s cousins sprinkled throughout.  He recognized Soos’s abuelita, and their mutual friends like Candy, Grenda, and Wendy, but that was about it.

Grunkle Stan was currently chatting up a pair of women at the bar, prodding his brother’s shoulder to get him to speak up.  Ford looked uncomfortable but went along with it anyway, shifting awkwardly and attempting to inject interesting facts into the conversation.  The two women were highly disinterested but didn’t want to be rude and tell them to get lost. It was a comical scene and yet another entry in Stan’s “failed one night stands” log.

“Do you want a drink?” Dipper asked Bill, who had been eyeing the colorful concoctions as they stood around awkwardly.  He’d held onto the fake identification cards Stan had forged for them when they went out to the bar a few weeks ago in case of situations like this.  Bill nodded his affirmation and Dipper decided to get one of each, handing the pink champagne to his boyfriend who sipped it curiously.

“How is it?”  

“It’s… nice.” The bubbles reminded him of the cans of soda they had back home, which he’d also been apprehensive to try at first.  

“Want some of mine?” Dipper passed his green drink to Bill, watching as his face scrunched and he shook his head with a _blech_ sound.  It made Dipper laugh because the blonde was still trying to figure out his taste preferences - sour and spicy were definitely crossed off the list.  

“Too bitter.  How are you supposed to find any enjoyment in that?” It was acidic and left an unpleasant burning sensation on the back of his tongue.  At least the pink champagne was sweet and pleasant and went down easily.

Dipper simply shrugged in response and took another drink from his glass.  The taste reminded him of the sour candies he and Mabel had gorged on when they were younger.  He’d beaten Mabel in a contest once to see who could stuff as many Warheads into their mouth without gagging or throwing up.  “Guess I just have a high tolerance for it.” A waiter paused near him and he plucked two meatballs from the tray, handing one to Bill and chewing the other.  The blonde had to agree with Grunkle Stan that free food really was the best as he devoured the appetizer and stole another from the tray when the waiter wasn’t looking.

* * *

After the hour had passed, all of the guests began searching for their assigned seats.  Dipper’s dark eyes flitted back and forth over the chalkboard sign before landing on his and Bill’s names.  “We’re at 4,” he announced, and they made their way over. The circular tables alternated with pink and navy table runners, each holding a vase of white flowers in the center.  They’d been seated at a table decorated in blue, off to the side near a wall framed with sepia photos. Place settings were neatly arranged with a little tin of personalized M&M candies wrapped in ribbon.  

Melody’s bridesmaids had put together a lot of the decorations themselves, particularly the wedding favors, centerpieces, and tissue paper pom poms that hung at varying heights from the ceiling.  The fact that most of the decor was DIY and inexpensive tied in to the simplistic, yet pretty motif.

Dipper scanned the guests as they chattered and took their seats, finally landing on Stan and Ford as they looked around for Table 4.  Dipper witnessed Grunkle Stan snatch an extra tin of candy from a nearby table and tuck it into his pocket. This was followed by a smack from Ford and instructions to put the favor back where he’d found it.  Stan muttered his annoyance and obeyed his older brother.

For now, at least.

He laughed and waved them over, which took a few minutes because they hadn’t noticed their nephew right away.  It was honestly surprising that Stan hadn’t tried to pocket the greeting cards full of money on the other side of the room.  A large pile of gifts had also been amassed on a side table, and Dipper could spot theirs from a mile away - it was wrapped in gold and ivory damask paper with a giant golden bow on top - all Mabel’s doing.  Grunkle Stan had wanted to regift a used toaster oven with stale bread crumbs and unknown gunk forever burned into the metal interior, but his sister absolutely refused to give Soos and Melody a hand-me-down appliance from the mid 1990’s.  She’d forced her stingy uncle to cough up his share of the cash needed to purchase a brand new KitchenAid mixer. They’d all contributed financially to the gift which lessened the burden of the $320 price tag.

Once all of the guests were seated, the DJ tapped his microphone to garner everyone’s attention.  “Ladies and gentlemen, I now present to you for the very first time… Mr. and Mrs. Ramirez!”

A round of cheers and applause welcomed the newlyweds as they paraded into the room.  They held their clasped hands high in the air and moved to the center of the floor for their first dance as husband and wife.  Soos took the microphone from the DJ for a brief second before they began. “I just wanna say, yesterday was my birthday and all, but today I got the best present I could’ve asked for.  I love you so much, babe.” Melody’s eyes glistened with adoration as she stared up at him and Soos passed the microphone back over so he could hold his bride. The DJ began playing “Beautiful in White” by Westlife and they moved together as one to the music.

Mabel had been standing near their table for the past few minutes and rested her head on her clutched hands as she gushed over the pair.  “Awwww! They’re so in love, aren’t they?”

“Let me tell you a little something about love, Mabel dear. It’s completely overblown. Soos doesn’t know what he’s really getting into. I even wrote this poem,” Stan said as he produced a folded paper from his vest. Ford rolled his eyes as his brother began reading aloud. “What does love stand for?  Lake of Sorrows. Ocean of Tears. Valley of Death. End of life.”

Mabel snatched the paper out of his hands and tore it to bits.  “Just ‘cause things didn’t work out between you and your ex-wife doesn’t mean anyone else shouldn’t love each other.  Don’t be so selfish, Grunkle Stan. Look how happy they are.” She motioned to the couple who were so clearly enamoured, but he still made a sound of dissent.

“Happiness doesn’t always last.”

“That’s not true.  Money never fails to make _you_ happy.”  She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him pointedly.  

“Yeah, but that’s completely different. Money won’t let you down or disappoint you or try to blow your head off with a shotgun.”

That comment had the entire table gaping at him.  “What?” he asked defensively. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

Dipper blinked incredulously. “So that whole joke about your ex ‘missing’ you was actually true?”

“Of course it was,” he said simply as though it had been obvious all along.  “She was a real firecracker, that one. Not the first time I’ve been shot at though.”  Trespassing on private property and fleeing from Columbian cartel members came to mind, but those were riveting tales best saved for another time and another place.  Soos and Melody’s song had ended and they were seating themselves at the main table. “Anywho, looks like they’re starting to serve the food now.”

Several waiters were passing plates out to the hungry guests. There were two options to choose from: grilled chicken with mashed potatoes and a summer vegetable medley, or a vegetarian-friendly ravioli.

“I’m gonna head back to my seat now,” Mabel announced. She jabbed a manicured nail into Stan’s spine. “Make sure you behave yourself tonight.”

“Sure thing, _mom_.” He waved her off as a plate of chicken was placed before him and wasted no time digging in.

* * *

Mabel was coasting on one of her top three sugar highs ever and dancing like someone who’d spent far too long perfecting all of Lady Gaga and Michael Jackson’s choreography in her spare time. There was no way Candy and Grenda could keep up but that didn’t stop them from trying anyway.  The minute she’d discovered the dessert bar, she loaded up on cookies and cupcakes and mini-eclairs and nothing in the world would stop her now.

The Macarena (which she’d personally requested) started blaring through the sound system’s speakers and she’d stolen the show as a crowd gathered around and cheered her on.  It was two parts equally embarrassing and impressive in Dipper’s eyes. His sister knew how to have a good time even if it was at her own expense. But people seemed to be enjoying it and getting in on the fun themselves.

When the song ended, Grenda could be heard yelling out.  “Holy crap you guys, they’ve got a photo booth!” She pulled Candy and Mabel away as the three chanted in unison. “Pic-tures! Pic-tures!”

Twenty minutes later the girls came running back, grinning and clutching countless strips of photographs.  In each set they wore different silly hats and accessories. They stopped in front of Table 4, where Dipper and Bill sat by themselves.  Ford and Stan had wandered off somewhere but it gave the two enough privacy for a personal conversation, up until now.

“Look you guys!” Mabel slid over a photo strip of the three friends clad in feather boas and giant sunglasses, all pulling different, goofy expressions. “We all look like Elton John! Isn’t that so silly?!”

“Who’s Elton John?”

The girls blinked at Bill.

“Awk-ward,” Candy sang out.

“It’s okay, I’ll show you sometime,” Mabel winked.  As the song changed over to a pop beat, she exclaimed, “Ooooh this is totally my song! C’mon ladies, let’s bust a move!”  They ran off to commandeer the dance floor once again, leaving Dipper chuckling and Bill looking just as confused as ever.

Suddenly the brunette stood and yanked Bill to his feet.  “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”  

Dipper didn’t reply as he motioned for Bill to follow him through the reception hall. Just around the corner was the photo booth that Candy, Mabel, and Grenda had been goofing off in moments prior.  Dipper dug through the giant box of props and pulled out a tophat and a pair of fuzzy cat ears. He handed the hat to Bill and slid the gray-eared headband over his thick curls.

They stepped inside, taking a seat on the built-in bench that faced the camera. Both were unsure if there was some sort of countdown or screen that would alert them to pose. A sudden flash captured their confused expressions and caused them to laugh and start making faces.

Just before the last photo was taken, Dipper pulled Bill in for a kiss.  He lingered there for a minute even after the last flash went off and their photo strip began to print.

They climbed out of the booth and Dipper looked over the pictures.  The first one which had been a dud turned out to be priceless - one of Bill’s eyebrows was raised comically high and Dipper’s face was scrunched up, mirroring the blonde’s reaction to the sour drink during cocktail hour.  The second and third photos were funny but the last picture was their favorite. Both of their eyes were closed as their kiss was forever captured on film. Dipper couldn’t help but notice how genuinely happy they looked and it made him smile.  He tucked the photo strip into his suit jacket for safekeeping.

By this point, Mabel had now pulled Stan into the gyrating crowd and was tugging at his sleeve.  “C’mon Grunkle Stan, dance with us!” Grenda, Candy, and now Wendy were grooving out and looking at him expectantly.

“Fine, fine.  As long as there’s no twerking or any of those other wackadoodle moves you kids like to do these days.”

“It’s just the Chicken Dance, you’ll be fine!” Wendy laughed.  

Mabel flapped her arms in time with the beat and made chicken noises as she shimmied around.  “I don’t wanna be a chicken, I don’t wanna be a duck, so kiss my butt! Cluck cluck cluck cluck!”

A few rounds in, and Stan was actually enjoying himself.  Mabel was giggling at the pure ridiculousness of it all, proud that she’d managed to convince at least one of the uncles to let loose.  Dipper was glad that he was recording the entire thing, especially given what happened next.

On one particularly enthusiastic squat, a massive tearing noise came from Stan’s direction.   _“Son of a bitch!”_ Mabel immediately fell into hysterics upon noticing the giant hole in her great uncle’s pants and the polka-dotted boxers now on public display.  He wasn’t often embarrassed, yet for whatever reason his cheeks became hot as he tried to cover the wardrobe malfunction with his hands. Tears rolled down Mabel’s face and she was practically screaming with laughter as her body folded in on herself.  The other girls were also in a similar state, unable to continue dancing due to the hilarious nature of the situation.

Stan hated to admit that Ford had been right, but the proof was in the pudding (and if there was actual pudding being served right now he totally would’ve eaten some.) “Okay, okay, so maybe I should back off the cheese poofs and soda.  Yeesh.” The damage was significant and there was no chance of returning the suit for a full refund like he had hoped.

* * *

Towards the end of the night, things took on a more serious tone when members of the wedding party began delivering speeches.  The best man rose, holding a glass of champagne in one hand and a set of note cards in the other. “We’re all here today to celebrate the union of Soos and Melody.  I know they’re eager to dive into the wedding cake so I’ll try to keep this brief.” A smattering of chuckles followed and he continued. “Ever since Melody was a little girl, she dreamt of her wedding day.  She once tried to make me and our brothers convince the kid down the street to marry her. Eventually he agreed, but only after we said we’d give him a wedgie if he didn’t.” He paused as more laughter came from the crowd, and Melody herself.  “All joking aside, as I was writing this speech, I came across a quote by Albert Einstein. It read, ‘You can’t blame gravity for falling in love.’ Isn’t that beautiful? Well, it got me thinking… there’s really no rhyme or reason when it comes to finding that one special person.  They enter our lives when we least expect it and cement themselves there. It may not be the way we ever thought it would happen, but we’re certainly glad it did.”

Bill and Dipper exchanged knowing glances and soft smiles. Beneath the polyester tablecloth, their hands were laced together and it just felt _so right._ Even if no one else could see it, they both knew the love between them was tangible and real.  Nothing could destroy it.

“A toast, to Soos and Melody: may you fall in love with each other every single day for the rest of your life together.”

The guests raised their champagne glasses in unison to toast the newlyweds.  Bill’s eyes locked with Dipper’s as they sipped the bubbly drinks and he desperately wished he could take the brunette in his arms and kiss him breathless.  It was an overwhelming desire on both of their behalves, yet far too risky to attempt with so many people who could catch them.

With the speeches out of the way, Melody and Soos stood before their wedding cake.  It was two-tiered with a thick layer of buttercream icing and a tiny replica of the bride and groom occupying the top.  The tiny pair smiled back at them as they cut the first piece together and fed each other small bites. Soos knew better than to smash it in her face given how long it had taken Melody to apply her makeup this morning.  She’d never be angry about it, but perhaps a bit upset, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin this perfect day.

Slices of funfetti cake were distributed and a short while later it was time for the send off.  Guests were provided with sparklers to wave around as Soos and Melody walked to the black car that was waiting to deliver them to their hotel.  They farewelled everyone and thanked them for coming before climbing into the vehicle and driving off into the night.

“Ready to head back?” Ford twirled the set of car keys around his fingers.  Stan had once again consumed enough alcohol to make driving a concern and was cradling three extra boxes of (possibly stolen) wedding cake as they convened on the gravel pathway outside of the barn.  His pockets were stuffed full of cookies (also possibly stolen) and there was a cool breeze fanning his exposed underwear. He was just drunk enough not to care as he stuffed a sugar cookie into his mouth.  He might not have gotten laid tonight but it had still been a very successful evening.

The four men turned to move towards the El Diablo but Ford paused and faced his niece.  “Will you be joining us, Mabel?”

She waved a hand at him, ushering the family to head back without her.  “Nah, I’m gonna hang here for a bit with the other bridesmaids.” AKA, chill with a cute guy she had met tonight.  “I’ll find someone to give me a ride home when we’re done.”

“Suit yourself,” Stan shrugged, tugging impatiently at the handle before Ford even had a chance to unlock the damn thing.  Once the door was open, he plopped onto the bench seat, making the entire car rock beneath his full weight. They all waved their goodbyes to Mabel as she went back inside the venue and activated flirt mode.  

“I swear, Stanley, we’ve discussed your impatience before and you continue to-- _hmmp!”_  He was quickly silenced as Stan shoved one of the pocket-cookies straight into his mouth, lint and all.  

“Just shut up and drive, Sixer.”  

* * *

Neither Ford nor Stan even blinked when Dipper and Bill slipped up to the attic under the guise of male bonding time.  Stan always passed out after he drank anyway, and Ford was never interested in goofing around. There were always important scientific breakthroughs to be made and hanging out wasn’t going to further his research.  It was for the better because it meant that the two of them could be alone together. Dipper was happy that Mabel had stayed behind because now they didn’t have to watch their backs and worry about someone finding out.

He moved to the record player sitting on top of their shared dresser and carefully removed whatever Mabel had been listening to.  Dipper exchanged it for a romance album featuring various artists and positioned the needle onto the record’s striated surface.

Chantal Kreviazuk’s gentle voice accompanied the music that now filled the entirety of the attic.  Bill took the lead and raised his left arm, bent at the elbow, drawing Dipper into a traditional closed position. It was common for waltzes and ballroom dancing, and apparently also for late night rendezvous with secret lovers.  Dipper placed his hand in Bill’s and the other settled on his shoulder as they began to move. They might not have been able to do this at the wedding, but here they were free to do whatever they pleased.

_Somethin' in your eyes, makes me wanna lose myself_

_Makes me wanna lose myself, in your arms_

Dipper wasn’t much of a dancer and it showed.  He’d already stepped on the blonde’s feet twice and kept muttering sincere apologies.  Only half of the Pines siblings had been gifted with dance skills and he’d certainly lost out when it came to that genetic lottery.  Bill reassured him that it was fine but mentally noted that they’d have to work on that at some point.

_There's somethin' in your voice, makes my heart beat fast_

_Hope this feeling lasts, the rest of my life_

He allowed Bill to twirl him regardless of how silly it looked and felt.  Normally it would’ve been a move reserved for a female dancer, but gender norms were overrated and neither of them cared anyway.  Bill had caught on to the lyrics by the second chorus and began softly repeating them in Dipper’s ear. The brunette closed his eyes and cradled his head into Bill’s neck, content to listen to his smooth voice for the rest of eternity.  

_If you knew how much this moment means to me_

_And how long I've waited for your touch_

_If you knew how happy you are making me_

_I never thought that I'd love anyone so much_

After hours of waiting, their lips finally met.  He’d never tire of their kisses, whether hard and passionate or careful and sweet.  Simply being in Bill’s presence made Dipper indescribably happy.

Over the course of the next two songs, their dance regressed to a basic sway of hips as they moved in a circle.  His arms hung lazily around Bill’s neck as they held each other. Slow dancing in the soft light of the attic was a throwback to Dipper’s senior prom only two months earlier.  He’d asked a girl who lived down the street to go with him but nothing else became of it other than some forgettable memories and a very awkward hug. She’d only said yes for the sake of having a date, and it was painfully obvious as they danced together that she was distracted by another guy.  It left Dipper feeling used and bitter. If Bill had been around then he might’ve grown the balls to ask him to dance no matter who was watching. In his own mind he was much braver than the shy, stumbling ball of anxiety reality painted him as.

He hoped that someday they’d get to dance like this again, surrounded by family and friends as they shared their first dance as husbands.  The idea was absolutely surreal but for now it would remain as one of his fantasies. If Mabel could dream about her wedding day, then so could he.

“I wanna sleep with you tonight,” Dipper sighed.  “Literally, I mean. Not physically, _hah_ ,” a nervous laugh was punched out of him as he quickly tried to clarify.  The old twin mattress would never comfortably support both of them and even if they’d managed to somehow crunch together, Dipper was a hundred and ten percent positive they’d have stiff necks and sore backs in the morning.

The idea of Dipper in his bed was one that Bill would always welcome.  “Of course you can sleep with me. Literally, that is,” he chuckled. “But if I’m being honest, I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to the physical sense either.”  He kissed and nipped at Dipper’s neck, but the younger man pulled away before bruises could have a chance to form.

“I know, I just… I still need a little more time.”  Giving his body to Bill was something he’d been toying around with lately.  There were still some doubts he was working through, namely where pain was concerned.  He’d managed to hold on to his V-card this long - highly uncommon for a guy his age. Mabel had already lost hers a few years ago and their parents still had no clue about it.  It was yet another of the many secrets he shouldered. Dipper wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t come across the pregnancy test hidden in her messenger bag. Luckily for everyone involved, it had been negative, but that didn’t stop him from lecturing Mabel about the importance of safe sex with a responsible partner.

Unlike his sister, Dipper wanted his first time to be more than meaningless sex with a forgettable face, and Bill would be neither of those things.  That thought alone was comforting and nearly sealed the deal right then and there.

Maybe it was almost time for Dipper to let go and give in to his deepest desires.

* * *

Five hours after they’d crawled into bed, Bill woke to the sound of rain pelting against the window panes.  Dipper was breathing shallowly next to him, sleeping through the storm. They hadn’t had sex tonight, but Bill was willing to take things slowly if Dipper felt necessary.  When the moment finally came, he’d savor every second of it, but until then he’d allow Dipper to set the pace.

Bill slid off the mattress making sure it didn’t depress enough to rouse his lover.  His throat was dry and rough, signaling that he was in desperate need of something to drink.  Carefully slipping out of the room, he passed through empty halls and down a flight of creaky stairs until he’d reached the kitchen.  The digital clock on the stove blinked ‘3:26’ in harsh green lights and the entire Mystery Shack was still aside from his movements.

He drank from an unopened water bottle, the liquid flowing into his mouth and down his throat to relieve the scratchy sensations that were present.  He took a few more gulps before putting the container back into the fridge for later. A single minute had passed between entering and exiting the kitchen and he was on his way back to the bedroom when a crack of light caught his eye. 

The vending machine that led down to the basement was slightly ajar.  He hadn’t been down there since the day Ford had taken his blood and run some sort of tests on it.  Inquisitiveness got the better of him and he slipped inside and crept down the old staircase.

The laboratory was devoid of any signs of life, the lights of the machinery casting an eerie green and red glow against the metal walls.  Ford must have neglected to shut the door all the way before retreating to bed earlier that night.

He sat down in the swivel chair at the desk and sifted through stacks of papers.  That test had to be around somewhere, but it was a matter of trying to locate it. Buried beneath research papers on various scientific subjects, none of which he cared to read, was the manila folder labeled “DEMONS.”  Bill hadn’t seen it the day Ford performed blood tests, but something about it piqued his curiosity. Nimble fingers flicked through the pages until he came to a folded paper that was clipped onto another. He pulled the stack out to study it better, finding that the folded paper was the resulting blood analysis.  At the top of the sheet, his name was stamped in bold letters: TEST SUBJECT - CIPHER, BILL. Weird. He didn’t understand a lot of the jumbled equations and notes scribbled in the margins, but at the right hand side Ford had written “DEMON ENZYME - NEGATIVE” and circled it multiple times in red ink.

Bill’s brow scrunched in confusion. Demon Enzyme? Why in the world was Ford running tests on him to see if he was a demon?  It was fucking bizarre and made him wonder if the man was starting to lose it or something. He set the analysis aside and focused on the pages it had been attached to.  

It was a detailed profile, _all about him._

**BILL CIPHER**

**STATUS: DECEASED**

**TIER: INTER-DIMENSIONAL DREAM DEMON**

When he flipped to the second page, a giant triangle with a single eye stared back at him.  The same symbol he’d seen on dollar bills and Dipper’s tattoo… The barrier that had been constructed in his mind suddenly crumbled. Memories flashed at an alarming rate leaving him shaking and digging his nails into the leather arms of the chair as he tried to process everything at once.

A town - _this town_ \- lie in ashes, the sky a sickly shade of orange and a giant X torn through the fabric of space and time.  Gravity Falls was burning and it was _all his doing._  The Fearamid, the Henchmaniacs, Stanley tricking him into entering his mind...

...the way he’d so cruelly been cast out of existence.  His fists clenched the page, causing the edges to become crinkled under their onslaught.  Everything had come to light in perfect clarity like stepping out into the sun on a bright day.  It all made sense now - why he couldn’t remember anything that night in the woods, why the Pines family had retreated when they learned his name, and why no one placed the entirety of their trust in him.

Five years ago he’d been an all powerful being from a different dimension and now he was reduced to a fragile human form, entirely dependent on his worst enemies.  

And the cherry on top - he was in love with Pine Tree.  The idea made him laugh wildly, echoing throughout the basement.  What an ironic and absolutely ridiculous twist on the situation. Bill had never loved anything in his trillion-year existence, aside from maybe himself and the massive hovering pyramid he had once called home.

He scooped up the file folder and made his way up two flights of stairs. Dipper was half awake as he entered the room, brown eyes blinking questioningly at him.

“Hey there, Pine Tree!”

“Hey,” he muttered back. The words didn’t fully hit him until a few seconds later when he shot upright. “Wait, what did you just call me?”

“That’s right, _Pine Tree_.  I remember now.”  He threw the file folder at Dipper’s chest, loose pages skidding across the blankets in every direction.  Some wafted through the air and slid underneath the bed, and before Dipper knew what was happening, Bill’s face was millimeters from his.  The blonde was grinning maliciously and his words dripped with venom.

“I remember _everything_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *maniacal laughter escalates*


	10. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took me a little longer than expected cause I tried to make it somewhat coherent and not total dog shit this time. Just a bit overcritical of myself so ignore me. You all seem to be enjoying it though. Hopefully this chapter will live up to your expectations my darlings <3

Dipper’s worst nightmare was unraveling right before his eyes, and unfortunately he wasn’t sleeping anymore.  The sudden closeness of their faces had him shrinking backwards against the headboard as fear gripped his heart.

“What’s the matter, Pine Tree?  Am I scaring you?”

 _Yeah, you are_ , but Dipper wasn’t about to answer that question aloud and leave himself vulnerable.  He rolled to the side, nearly falling out of bed, but managed to catch himself on shaky legs.  “How did you get this?” Dipper scrambled as he tried to gather all of the pages that were sent fluttering into the air when Bill threw the folder at him.  The ex-demon sat back on his heels and watched Dipper scurry around the room like a child desperate to pick up all of their toys before they got in trouble.

“Your brainy uncle forgot to lock up tight.  Guess he’s not as smart as he seems, huh?”

 _Dammit Ford._ A careless mistake had jeopardized everything they’d been trying to prevent.  After Bill burned the journals, Ford constructed a filing system using the scanned pages Stan had made when he was trying to reactivate the portal. It was a more organized system and safer, given the fireproof nature of the metal cabinets, but it was only effective if the contents were actually locked away from prying eyes.

Dipper had just finished gathering the papers and tucking them neatly back into the folder when Bill crept up behind him and snatched his wrist.  He let out a surprised gasp as the blonde’s nails dug sharp crescents into the translucent skin. It didn’t hurt per say, but rather it had caught him off guard - Bill had been gentle up until this point but it seemed the time for being polite had expired along with his amnesia.  It should’ve frightened him, but Dipper found some sort of perverse pleasure in it all.

“No need to be scared, darling,” his boyfriend cooed.  “Betcha didn’t know old Bill could look like such a dreamboat, did ya? Hell, you didn’t turn out so bad yourself.”  The brilliant eyes Dipper had stared into so many times were now raking across his body and it made him feel both extremely uncomfortable and slightly aroused.  Red patches began blossoming at his neck and cheeks the longer he was inspected.

“ _Bill_ \--”

“I always knew you couldn’t resist me.  After all, you’ve already had me inside you.”  He smoothed the back of his hand across the brunette’s face and winked.

Dipper bristled at the blatant insinuation, his skin crawling all over.  Goosebumps rose along his arms - whether out of horror or delight he couldn’t be sure.  Bill was undoubtedly referring to the way he’d possessed his body during Mabel’s sock puppet show all those years ago, but his mind was thrown full force into the gutter and it was a struggle to climb out.

“I mean, look at you.  Even had my face tattooed on your body while I was gone.”  Bill kissed the triangular depiction that made its home on Dipper’s forearm.  There was hardly a finer canvas for a portrait of his former self.

“That’s not why I--”

“It’s okay honey, I missed you too,” Bill chirped, cutting him off for the second time.  “You’ve grown from a tiny sapling to a handsome, towering tree before my eye. Well, eyes, this body _does_ have two after all,” he cackled.  

Dipper’s heart raced as he was suddenly trapped between the bedroom wall and Bill - a position he once yearned for, but was now threatening rather than sexy.  The demon was powerless but his looming figure and sly grin were intense and intimidation made the hairs on his neck stand straight. This was the same being who’d tried to massacre his family and raze Gravity Falls for his own deranged pleasure.  Knifelike stabs twisted Dipper’s gut and bile built up at the back of his throat. An awful sense of dread accompanied his panic as he realized that the innocent stranger they’d been dealing with for the past few weeks was gone. He was now facing a far more dangerous incarnation of the man.        

Bill stared into his eyes as though he could read his mind.  “Relax, sweetheart,” he purred. “I’m not gonna hurt you. And that whole ‘Weirdmageddon’ thing?  Water under the bridge.”

Dipper held back a derisive laugh - sure, because the attempted annihilation of everything he loved could _so easily_ be set aside.  “How did you come back?  You died, didn’t you?”

“Ugh.  You really wanna hear that boring old story?”  Bill’s annoyance was palpable as he rolled his eyes.  “I can think of a lot more enjoyable things we could be doing right now.”

Dipper panted as he considered the options.  What he really wanted was for Bill to press forward and kiss him senseless.  That devilish grin was turning him on beyond belief, but his curiosity weighed heavy and eventually won out.  “Tell me.”

“What a buzzkill.” He stepped back, deciding to indulge the brunette.  “Fine, but I’ll keep it short. After Fordsy tricked me into entering Stan’s mind, I invoked the Prophecy of the of the Axolotl.  Upon phasing out of existence, I was stripped of my demon status and all of my memories. But as you can see, the prophecy worked - I just had to wait until the conditions were perfect.  5 years, 500 years, even 5,000 years - either way I was bound to return.”

Dipper’s eyes shrank to slits as his face scrunched in confusion.  “Prophecy of the what?”

“That’s not important,” Bill waved his hand dismissively.  “Point is, I’m back. Just… not as I initially intended.” He made a sweeping gesture to the body he now inhabited.  “I’ve possessed lots of people but never actually had a soul to call my own. It’s weird not feeling so… hollow inside.”  He poked at his ribcage and exhaled slowly. It was difficult to be sure, but he sounded almost... sad. “Humanity’s a lot different than being a chaos god, let me tell you.”  Wrath and destruction were placed on the back burner and substituted with tiredness and hunger. “My body hurts for no real reason and I have these weird cravings for fried foods... oh, and the constant need to urinate is a _total_ pain in the ass.” He rolled his eyes again as if having to sleep and pee were the worst things that could befall anyone.

“Yeah, welcome to being mortal.  It mostly sucks,” Dipper said, relaxing slightly under the playful comment.  But his lightheartedness quickly dissipated, muscles tensing as Bill pressed his palm flat against Dipper’s chest, just left of his sternum.  The steady heartbeat beneath layers of blood and flesh echoed the one that he possessed.

“Things are different now,” he murmured, a drastic change from the venom-laced words he’d spat earlier. “I’m actually cradling your heart instead of ripping it out of your chest cavity, so that counts for something, right?” A wry chuckle punctuated his words.  The dynamic between them had taken a complete 180 since Weirdmageddon, when Bill played _eenie-meanie-miny-moe_ with Dipper and Mabel’s lives. Shooting Star would’ve been the one to die if ‘Ford’ hadn’t surrendered. He could’ve just crushed both sets of twins beneath his fist and called it a victory, but the overwhelming need for complete and total power of this dimension had been his downfall.

Given the love he currently felt for the teen, Bill was relieved that he hadn’t deconstructed Dipper’s molecules or torn his head clean off his neck.  “I hope you don’t completely hate me anymore.”

“I dunno, I mean, you were an insane dream demon bent on world domination… You turned everyone into human statues for your throne, locked Mabel away in a bubble, used my uncle as a backscratcher, turned the town into a total wasteland, told one of your minions to eat me for a snack…” Dipper wasn’t sure which one of those he was the most upset about since they were all pretty much equally traumatic.

“Okay, okay, I get it.”  It was Bill’s turn to blush now, something Dipper had never witnessed before.  “I guess the power kinda, uh, went to my head? I was a little wild there for a second.”

“Not exactly the terms I’d use,” Dipper said.  His arms were crossed defensively over his chest.  “More like batshit crazy and really horrifying. I had PTSD for _years_ , Bill.  It took a lot for me to feel safe again.”  His teeth found their way to his lower lip and gnawed sharply.  “I was honestly really glad that you were dead.” The words hurt, but they needed to be spoken.  Bill had been completely psychotic and out of control at the time, so Dipper and his family had done what they needed to in order to save themselves and the town from a madman.

“I guess saying ‘sorry’ could never really make up for everything I put you through, but it’s all I’ve got,” Bill sighed.  He hoped that somehow Dipper could look past it all, even if it was borderline impossible to forgive the things he’d done before he was provided a human soul with morals and regrets and all that shit.

Dipper stepped forward into Bill’s personal space.  “Saying sorry won’t ever be enough to erase what you’ve done.”  At those words, Bill cast his gaze downward, gold eyes full of guilt.  Dipper could hardly believe he was feeling sympathy for a literal devil, but here he was.  He traced Bill’s jaw with his thumb, drawing absentminded circles into the smooth skin. “But forgiveness was the whole reason Mabel and I tried to help you these past few weeks, because we thought that maybe we could redeem your sins.  And it turns out that I’m in love with you, so I guess that makes us both insane,” Dipper laughed. The circumstances were completely absurd and fucked up and he’d never seen them coming. Bill Cipher, a trillion-year old demon from another dimension who, at one time, could’ve broken his neck with the snap of his fingers, had managed to win his affections and get into his pants.  The floating triangle of terror was reduced to a fragile body and was trying to navigate the vast sea of human emotions.

Bill softened beneath his touch, the words abating his guilt.  He pulled Dipper into a hug, closing his eyes as he held the boy and drew in ragged breaths. “I love you, too, Pine Tree.”  Dipper navigated the two of them back to the bed, once again taking on their role as lovers instead of enemies. Bill seemed comforted by the forgiveness he’d received and Dipper finally had some answers to the questions he’d been mulling over.  Later today he’d make a point of asking Ford if he knew anything about axolotls and the significance they held, but for now he was satisfied with holding Bill in his arms until they both fell back asleep.

* * *

Dipper was stationed in front of the stove cooking eggs and bacon when Bill appeared at his side.  They’d slept in for another five and a half hours and it was now going on 9am. Upon waking, Dipper entered the kitchen to find a pink paper on the fridge with his name in huge, cursive letters.  Unfolding the note, he immediately recognized Mabel’s handwriting occupying the space.

 _Good morning, sleepyhead! Hope you and Bill had fun during your male bonding time last night :) I dragged the Grunkles out Greasy’s for breakfast and some fresh air._ _Hope you’re not mad that I let you guys sleep in a little.  We’ll be back later so if you need anything, just call or text me - you know my number bro-bro! xoxo, Mabel._

“That smells amazing,” Bill said, sucking in lungfuls of frying meat.  After never needing to eat before, he wondered how he’d managed to survive so long without it.

Dipper smirked, but kept his back to the blonde as he flipped the bacon to ensure it cooked evenly. “Yeah, well, somehow I figured you’d be hungry.”

“You know me so well, don’t you?” Bill ruffled Dipper’s mop of dark hair and went about grabbing a pair of plates and utensils out of the cupboard.  He set the table and Dipper split the contents of the pans evenly between them (or mostly even; he may‘ve slid a little extra onto Bill’s dish) and the two sat down to eat.

Bill wasted no time snagging a piece of bacon from his plate and popping the whole thing into his mouth.  He had maybe ( _definitely_ ) eaten people before when he existed in his demonic form, but pork was an entirely new concept to him.  It was certainly a lot tastier than spleens and marrow, both of which tended to be gritty and difficult to swallow.  Who knew that cured and cooked meats could be so delectable?

Dipper chewed a forkful of scrambled egg as he watched Bill devour the food on his plate.  He catalogued a mental note to introduce Bill to bacon cheeseburgers sometime, maybe on one of their future dates.  “I’m happy you like it, but slow down and enjoy it, man. No one’s going to take it from you.”

Bill nodded sheepishly and slowed his pace, savoring it like Dipper had suggested.  He was still getting used to all of the human mannerisms and customs like not gulping down his food and using terms like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, even though the latter two were still something Ford and Stan struggled with to this day.

They talked and laughed through breakfast, enjoying the food and each other’s company.  It felt like a domestic fantasy to Dipper, one he wouldn’t mind repeating every day for the foreseeable future.  

As he stood to clear the table, Bill also rose to his feet.  “Hey, you wanna hear something funny?”

“What?”

Bill chuckled before the words even came out of his mouth.  “I used to fantasize about tearing you limb from limb and watching all of the blood drain out of your mangled little corpse.”

“That’s… really disturbing.”

“But recently,” Bill continued, ignoring the teen’s disgusted expression and leaning in closer, “I’ve been fantasizing about taking you apart in a different kind of way.”  He licked the shell of Dipper’s ear, the husky words hot as they ghosted over his flesh and made him shiver. Dipper’s dick sprang to life, betraying him.

Bill backed him up against the kitchen table and slid his thigh between Dipper’s, forcing his legs apart to make room for the blonde’s lithe form.  Cleaning up was promptly forgotten as Dipper’s lower back was pinned against the metal edge of the table, pain radiating outwards from where it made contact.  Bill slotted himself against the young man and cupped Dipper’s junk through the front of his sweatpants, pulling a groan from the teen.

“Mmm, look who’s eager.  I love how horny you get for me, Pine Tree.”

“You’re the one that makes me this way,” Dipper said.  He tilted his head as Bill claimed his lips and pressed his tongue inside to chase the taste of bacon.  His hands were on Dipper’s hips as they made out, grinding their clothed groins together through layers of cloth.    

Bill pulled back reluctantly, as kissing Dipper had become one of his favorite past times. “That meal was delicious and all, but honestly I’m still _hungry_.”  The way that his gold irises were being swallowed up by dark pupils told Dipper that this hunger ran deeper than a need for food - the sort of sustenance Bill craved now was entirely sexual.  Dipper felt his stomach flip as he came to the realization that it was time.

He _needed_ Bill.

They kissed fervently, bodies on fire as they clung desperately to each other.  A whirlwind of excitement was building in Dipper’s gut as Bill began tearing at his clothes, breaking their kiss for a second as he yanked the brunette’s tee over his head. Shirts and pants were tossed onto the floor and they were naked for the first time since showering together.  Dipper couldn’t help himself - he sank to his knees and stroked Bill for a moment before sucking him down. This time he only gagged slightly but pushed through it, determined to bring the man as much pleasure as he could. Bill let out an appreciative sigh, wrapping his fingers in the teen’s hair and tugging forcefully enough that it caused Dipper’s cock to twitch in response.  

“You sure know how to put that mouth to good use,” Bill teased, turning into a cut-off gasp as Dipper deep-throated him in an attempt to make him shut up.  He swallowed around the thick length, the rippling of his throat creating a fluttering sensation for the blonde. Unlike Bill, Dipper didn’t need to use words to tease him right back.  Saliva pooled in his mouth and ran down his chin, mixing with the precum that leaked steadily from Bill’s tip. He fisted his own arousal as he worked both of them into a hypersensitive state.  

Bill indulged himself, fucking into Dipper’s mouth at a decent speed - his baby boy could take it and the lewd wet sounds were like music to his ears with each snap of his hips, burying himself down Dipper’s throat and pulling back only to repeat the action.  The brunette was doing well at taking the entirety of Bill’s length. Tasting the man’s seed on the back of his tongue was spurring him on, and he reveled in the fact that _he_ was the one in control over Bill this time.  They continued like that for several minutes until the blonde began spiraling towards the point of no return.    

As wonderful as Dipper blowing him was, Bill knew that it was time to get down to business.  He pulled away and rifled through the overhead cabinets until he’d found a bottle of olive oil.  It would have to do for the time being. Snapping the lid open, he generously coated his fingers with the fluid until they were slick and slippery, then made his way back to the eager teen.  Dipper was now sitting on the surface of the table, the metal slightly cold against his ass and lower back. He shifted until he was laying flat, legs wide spread in invitation.

The sight of Pine Tree submissive and eager would be forever emblazoned in his brain, mind erasing gun be damned.  Bill licked his lips, savoring the tableau on display before he went to work.

The first digit to circle his entrance made Dipper jump.  He knew what sex entailed, but the feeling of a finger brushing against his most private area was jarring nonetheless.  The research he’d done stated that it was extremely important to relax, so he closed his eyes and let his shoulders drop down in an attempt to release the nervous tension that currently overwhelmed him.  The burning sensation that came with the insertion of two fingers caused him to hiss through clenched teeth, but it would soon fade into an aching pleasure.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Dipper reassured him.  After a few more seconds of scissoring, he pushed his hips forward to demand another finger. “More, Bill, please...” he gasped as his wish was granted and a third digit pressed up inside of him.

It only took a few passes for Bill to hit Dipper’s prostate. The intense electric bursts nearly caused him to jackknife off the table as his body tingled from head to toe. “ _Aaah_ -Holy shit, Bill!”  The blonde repeated the motion and grinned delightedly as he watched Dipper’s toes curl and his hands scramble for purchase along the table’s edge.  “P-please, just get inside me.” If Bill kept toying with him like that, Dipper was going to end it all before they reached the main event.

Of course, there was no arguing with an invitation like that.  If Pine Tree wanted to be fucked, then he was gonna rail him ‘til he couldn’t walk straight.  When he was thoroughly coated, Bill gave his cock a few good strokes and aligned himself with Dipper’s hole.  As tempting as it was to shove inside, Bill forced himself to ease into the brunette half an inch at a time. It was an exquisite torture, the way Dipper’s ass embraced his dick and drew him further in.

A deep sense of relief overcame Dipper as Bill finally bottomed out.  He’d already been sweating and trembling through the preparation and he sighed now that the difficult part had passed.  A rush of endorphins quickly flooded out whatever pain he’d experienced from being fully stretched. Twin sighs were drawn from both of the men as Bill paused, allowing their bodies to adjust to the feelings of snug, warm heat and being so _full_.  

The ex-dream demon had had ‘sex’ many times in his trillion-year existence, but it had always been dulled due to the fact that it wasn’t exactly his own body.  Intercourse via demonic possession was still enjoyable, but it couldn’t compare to actually _experiencing_ it.  Every single nerve ending and ounce of oxytocin were his own.  In this sense, he and Dipper were both virgins, and neither were going to be able to handle the overwhelming sensations for long.  The tight heat that ensconced his manhood was delicious and caused a shiver to prickle his spine. It was in this moment that he realized, upon entering their minds, why so many humans had dreamt of sex and were constantly coming up with new ways of chasing their orgasms.     

Bill stretched forward, arching over Dipper as he began thrusting his hips.  It was slow at first but the pace gradually increased to something feverish, balls slapping against skin as his hips pushed Dipper forward.  “Harder, Bill, more!” Dipper’s legs wrapped around Bill’s waist, ankles locked as he pulled him impossibly closer. Their physical joining was far from perfect, but it didn’t have to be in order to make them feel good.  The close proximity of this position made it easy for Dipper to capture Bill’s lips, tongues sliding together as they exchanged moans and soft grunts.

As the blonde pulled back, Dipper’s arms found their way around Bill’s neck, trapping him in a constricting embrace.  “Yeah, right there, _shit_ ,” Dipper panted.  Bill was hitting all the right spots and at this rate he would probably come untouched.  

The old metal table was receiving a gold star for managing to hold their weight, legs creaking slightly but remaining upright beneath Bill’s thrusts.  He rubbed his thumbs over the brunette’s nipples which pulled ragged gasps from the boy’s kiss-swollen lips. He was super sensitive and pliant beneath those nimble fingers and wasn’t going to last much longer.  

“Aaaahh, Bill!”

His cries were accompanied by a smashing sound as the dishes they’d used fell from the table and sent tiny shards of porcelain scattering across the kitchen.  Neither cared about the broken plates in this moment, too preoccupied with the pleasure that was overtaking them both.

* * *

“Man up, Sixer, I’ve been eating at Greasy’s for _years_ and there’s no way the spinach omelette gave you food poisoning,” Stan chided as he slid the house key into the front door.  Their day out had been cut short after his big brother started complaining, so they’d decided to return early. Ford groaned in response and clutched at his stomach through the thick fabric of his turtleneck.  How the man could wear such heavy material in mid-July was the _real_ mystery taking place in Gravity Falls.  

“It’s okay, Grunkle Ford, I’ll go to the store later and get you some Pepto Bismol,” Mabel said.  She took a loud slurp from the to-go cup in her hand as they entered the Mystery Shack.

_“Aaaahh, Bill!”_

They all stiffened at the sounds of Dipper yelling and plates smashing coming from the kitchen.  It was evident as they all glanced at each other that they’d had the same thought:

_Dipper’s in trouble._

All complaints of sickness were forgotten as they ran towards the kitchen, Ford drawing the gun forever holstered at his side.  If he needed to kill Bill in order to save his nephew, then so be it. Nothing could have prepared them for the sight that met their eyes as they spilled through the door frame.  The styrofoam cup Mabel had been carrying hit the floor and cracked open, a tidal wave of fruit punch flooding across the warped wood. The shock caused her and Stan to freeze, but Ford had seen a lot of shit during his time in the multiverse.  He aimed the gun straight at Bill’s head with practiced precision. “Cipher, back away from him this instant!”

Dipper’s heart stopped as pure shock and embarrassment overtook him.  He quickly leapt off the table and grabbed the discarded pair of sweatpants he’d been wearing earlier, tugging them over his hips as Bill did the same.  

“He’s a fucking rapist!” Stan screamed, suddenly spurred into action.  “I told you! I _knew_ it was a bad idea to let him stay here! He’s still evil, demon blood or not!”  

“Oh my God, Dipper,” Mabel gasped.  She rushed forward to hug her brother as Ford kept Bill at gunpoint.  “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? This is my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him last night!”

“Rapist? That’s not --” Bill was cut off as Ford and Stan stepped closer to him, the barrel of the gun growing larger as they neared.  

“You made a _huge_ mistake fucking with the Pines family again,” Stan growled.  “Blow his goddamn brains out, Stanford!”

“No!” Dipper pushed Mabel forcefully to the side and stepped into the path of Ford’s weapon.  He covered Bill with his body, breathing heavy from the adrenaline rush. “He wasn’t raping me!”

“Step aside, kid,” Stan ordered, but Dipper refused to budge.   _“I said move!”_

“No!” Dipper continued to use himself as a human shield.  “You’re not listening to me! I _wanted_ this.  It was consensual!”

Stan and Ford’s brows unfurrowed as they looked to one another in confusion.  “What? You wanted…” Ford’s hand wavered as the gun was lowered slightly.

“You and Bill?  That’s fucked up, kid.  Don’t you see? He’s got you brainwashed or something!” Stan proclaimed.

“I’m not brainwashed, and I’m not a kid anymore, Grunkle Stan!” Dipper shouted.  His cheeks had taken on a deep shade of crimson out of both humiliation and anger.  Mabel had seen him blush before, but never to this extent. He looked like a volcano ready to erupt and it _scared_ her.  

“Dipper --”

“Shut the fuck up, Mabel,” he snapped.  She shrank down at those words, caught off guard by the anger in his voice.  “None of you have any right to judge me. I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions.” He glared at each of them in turn.  “I’m in love with Bill and you’re not going to change my mind.”

Might as well get it all out there, since there was nothing left to lose.  It was never the way he’d intended to come out to his family, but reality was often unpleasantly surprising and he wasn’t about to let Bill die again.

“He’s a fucking _monster_ , Dipper,” Stan spat, an accusatory finger pointed in Bill’s direction.  “You can’t love someone like that!”

“How the hell would you know, Grunkle Stan?! Any time you see a couple you try to stomp on their happiness to make yourself feel better about being unlovable.  If you’d stop acting like a piece of shit for once, maybe you’d be happy too!”

“What did you just say to me?!” Stan was fuming as he pushed Ford out of the way to get into Dipper’s face.  “You disrespectful little asshole - I gave you a place to live and kept you fed for all these years and now you’re gonna act this way?  Fine, get out of my house, and don’t even think about coming back here!”

“That’s fine, we were already leaving,” Dipper hissed, pulling Bill along as he stormed out of the kitchen and up to the attic.  He retrieved the luggage he brought along from Piedmont and yanked the dresser drawers open, filling the suitcase with his clothing and other belongings.  Fuck Stan and his negative bullshit. Fuck Ford, too. And Mabel - well he didn’t want to think about her right now or the way he’d just broken her heart. He finished shoving things into the suitcase, uncaring if they became wrinkled.  The veins in his neck throbbed wildly, blood pressure through the roof after the lovely little spat they’d just had. He threw a clean shirt at Bill and tugged on a black tee and grabbed his phone from the bedside table.

“Where are we going?” Bill asked, hurrying down the stairs as he trailed behind Dipper.  

“Somewhere we aren’t treated like crap,” he announced, bursting through the front door and down the porch steps.  He just wanted to get off the property and put some distance between them and the Shack and then he’d figure out what to do next.    

* * *

Stan, Ford, and Mabel stood in the kitchen in a tense silence, trying to process what had just happened.  The intensity of it all brought Mabel to the edge of tears as she fought to hold herself together. Dipper and her had been in fights before, but never like this.  Usually it was over stupid stuff that siblings always quarrelled about: who’d eaten the last pack of fruit snacks, whose turn it was to mow the lawn... this was much different and his words had affected her to the core.  On top of that, he hadn’t even trusted her enough to tell her about his true feelings for Bill. She would never judge him, and he _knew_ that.

Ford placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry, Stanley, I should’ve listened to you.  I suppose I just expected things to turn out differently.”        

“Yeah, me too,” he muttered, eyes downcast after the fall out.  They each sank back into a lull, trying to grapple with their emotions.  Dipper had crippled all of them with one swift blow and now the pain was starting to set in.  They’d each find ways to numb it until they were ready to deal with it all - for Stan, it would be alcohol, Ford would immerse himself in research, and Mabel would occupy herself with something childish in an attempt to ignore her problems.  Even after he’d yelled at her, she was still concerned for Dipper and held his best interests at heart. Maybe after things blew over, she’d try calling him and talking it out.

Stan eyed the kitchen table with a look of disgust as images he didn’t want to recall played back in his mind.  “Listen, I don’t care how much it costs, we’re going to IKEA and buying a new table.”

Ford and Mabel nodded their agreement.  

“But first, I’m gonna get some bleach so I can burn out my retinas.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative titles for this chapter include:  
> "Sex and Bacon" and "Why Banging in your Great Uncles' Kitchen is Probably a Bad Idea"
> 
>  
> 
> R.I.P. kitchen table, you will be missed.


	11. Two to Tango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BillDip is always such a rollercoaster of emotions, at least for me. This chapter is no exception. 
> 
> I wanted to get this up before the weekend. I haven't had much time to write between work stresses and being sick, but I'll do my best to start chapter 12 as soon as I'm feeling up to it :)

A neon sign buzzed overhead, “VACANCY” staring back at them in flickering pink letters.  The weather worn building was a far cry from the fancy hotels that lined the streets of California.  It could do with a major renovation and modern touches to erase the late 1970’s appearance dating it back to its prime. There was a covered patio held up by rusted metal columns spanning the length of the building, and the painted exterior was chipping in places, but at $55 dollars a night, it was the best Dipper could do.   

This place would act as their residence until his bank account bled dry, and then...

No. Dipper refused to acknowledge the word “homeless” as he stood side-by-side with Bill in the half-empty parking lot. There were far too many queer-gendered youth who’d been thrown out and left to fend for themselves.  

He refused to be another statistic.

Early evening was quickly fading, the sky smeared with elongated clouds.  Most of the day had been spent wandering around town, looking for free WiFi.  Eventually, they’d found a café where Dipper could pull out his laptop and look for somewhere to spend the night. He would’ve used his phone, except for the fact that it was at 17% and had no service.  The idea of staying at a motel hadn’t occurred to him right away - his first thought had been crashing with Wendy, but the redhead already shared a cramped cabin with her dad and three younger brothers. She’d also never trust Bill enough to let him sleep on her couch.  Soos and Melody were also out of the question, as they had already started their honeymoon and would be leaving for Key West in the morning.

There was really no one else he felt comfortable bothering, and that lead Dipper to begin googling local motels. Fortunately, the fact that Gravity Falls was a tourist trap this time of year meant that there was a sizable selection of places to choose from.  Some were downright scary based on the reviews he’d read: horror stories of roaches, drug paraphernalia, and black mold galore. Places that were one more violation from being labeled as condemned. Towards the top of the list was a reasonably priced motel with basic amenities and decent reviews.  It was an old little establishment, outdated, but clean enough that they didn’t need to worry about catching some kind of infection from just setting foot inside.

For once, instead of following his head, he allowed his heart to decide.  So far it was turning into the worst mistake of his life.

“Wait here.” Dipper instructed Bill to stay outside with their belongings while he booked them a room.  The blonde woman at the front desk was kind and didn’t ask too many personal questions, just verified his (fake) I.D. and authorized his credit card.  When everything had gone through, she handed Dipper the keys to a non-smoking room and wished him a good night.

Dipper twisted the keys in the lock until the door opened with a quiet click. He was instantly met with the smell of air freshener and lysol wipes.  Despite the water damaged drop ceiling and pea-green walls, the room was actually livable. They’d be sharing a single queen bed and a bathroom that hadn’t been updated since the late 1980’s, but somehow it felt perfect, like they finally had their own apartment.

A quick check for bedbugs yielded negative results and that was all Dipper needed before letting Bill know it was safe to come inside.  The blonde wheeled the suitcase in and Dipper unzipped it and started unpacking. Tendrils of residual anger brushed over him every now and again as he reflected on the day.  They shouldn’t have to resort to staying in a place like this, but things were always overcomplicated in Dipper’s life. He should’ve been used to it at this point, but it didn’t make things any easier.  Everything he’d worked so hard to protect had just blown up in his face and running away seemed like a better option than having to deal with the consequences.

The dresser drawers were now filled with their shared wardrobe, but the mini fridge was empty and Bill would undoubtedly be getting hungry.  Dipper grimaced sourly as he noted he’d forgotten to pack several items in his haste. Among the things unaccounted for were his toothbrush, toothpaste, and phone charger.  They’d have to find a nearby store or gas station anyway to pick up some snacks, so he’d buy new ones there.

Dipper flopped backwards onto the scratchy floral duvet and wrenched his eyes shut.  He heard Bill turn on the old CRT television and take a seat on the edge of the mattress.  The blonde hadn’t said much since that morning, probably feeling guilty over the fact that his actions had led them to this point.  He’d taken note that Bill’s cocky banter had subsided and the only words being spoken were coming from a middle-aged man on the Discovery channel.  

“Can you turn that down? I have a headache,” Dipper said, his words coming out with the same snapping bite he’d used against his family earlier.  Bill muted the television in response and turned fully to face him.

“Don’t start bitching at _me_.”  

“I’m not bitching,” Dipper said, bitchily.  He sat up and crossed his arms over his chest defensively.  Bill’s eyes narrowed. “Okay fine, I’m bitching, but I think I deserve to, don’t you? It’s basically your fault that we’re here in the first place.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining earlier,” Bill quipped, poking a sharp finger into Dipper’s chest.  “It takes two to tango, Pine Tree. And it’s not my fault your stupid family barged in like that.”    

Dipper felt his fists clenching at the insult, but he decided to bite his tongue and de-escalate things before they reached a boiling point.  He really didn’t want to argue with Bill too. “I’m sorry. It just feels like my life is falling apart.” The urge to cry was overwhelming but he refused to let himself break down further.  “I feel like I’m alone.” Part of him inherently missed his twin, but Mabel was probably upset with him too.

And honestly, he didn’t blame her one bit.

Bill reached out to pull him into a tight embrace and that was the point the tears started rolling.  “I’m right here with you, sweetheart.”

The notion that the only person Dipper had to rely on was Bill Cipher was both comforting and unsettling to some degree, but it didn’t stop him from shrinking into the man’s chest and sobbing.  His entire frame shook, searing tears staining Bill’s shirt. All that the blonde could do was cradle him and reassure him that everything would turn out all right.

* * *

As Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford pieced together the new kitchen table, Mabel sulked in the living room. Darkness had already filled the space but she didn’t bother to turn on a lamp. She was dimly illuminated by the hallway light, balled up in the recliner and staring down at the worn shag carpet. Stan could be heard cursing in the kitchen as he struggled with an Allen wrench and Ford was trying to decode the “simple” installation instructions.  She’d asked if they needed any help, but the brothers shook their heads and waved her off. Mabel had wandered down the hall and glued herself into the seat to the point where she had almost merged with the chair.

The grandfather clock chimed 8pm, signifying that she’d been sitting motionless for an hour now.  Dipper’s words played over and over in her mind and caused a knot to form in her gut. Stan and Ford were acting as though nothing happened, and while denial may have been part of their coping process, Mabel had a hard time reining in her emotions.

She grabbed the cell phone that had been sitting on the armrest and made her way upstairs.  The attic door swung closed behind her followed by a rush of fabric. Mabel spun around to see the suit Dipper had worn at the wedding was now pooled on the floor, the hanger shifting back and forth on the hook.  She found herself gathering the suit in her arms and putting it back on the hanger, smoothing her palms across the lapel and making sure it was free of wrinkles. The movement caused something else to fall this time, and she crouched to see what it was.

The glossy paper was a photo strip like the ones she’d taken with Candy and Grenda at Soos and Melody’s wedding, except it featured Bill and Dipper.  Her dark eyes studied the photos, frowning slightly upon seeing the final picture - the one where Dipper had pulled Bill in for a kiss.

They looked genuinely happy together and it made her heart ache for them.  One of Mabel’s biggest wishes in life was for Dipper to be content. All of her attempts to get him to loosen up and have fun were born from that singular goal.   

Hurt overcame elation, however. Dipper had gone to extreme lengths to keep - whatever their relationship was - a secret.  The fact that he felt he couldn’t trust her with it wounded Mabel like a dagger to the heart. If there was anyone who would have his back, it was her.  Dipper had always stuck by Mabel’s side and gotten her out of trouble on more occasions than she could count. They’d been through hell and back and it had only strengthened the bond they’d cherished since birth.  That’s why Dipper’s whole outburst had blindsided her and left her confused and upset.

But somehow, a tiny part of her understood.  Even though they could tell each other everything, there were some secrets Mabel kept locked away and she was determined to take them to her grave.  She may have clung to childlike ideologies, but sometimes it was easy for a social butterfly like her to get mixed up with the wrong crowd. Alcohol, pills, unsafe sex… sometimes all at once.  Dipper hadn’t realized the places she went under the guise of seeing a movie with friends.

He certainly didn’t know about the time she’d almost overdosed. He’d been so close to losing her that night.

She tucked the photographs back into Dipper’s suit jacket and moved over to her bed. The empty twin mattress glaring back at her was a bitter reminder of their earlier argument.  It made the cavernous sadness inside grow even larger. Before she could process her actions, Mabel was thumbing through her phone contacts until she found the one she’d been looking for.  

She tapped the call icon and sat through several rings, waiting until a voice on the other line finally spoke up.

“Hello?”

She drew in a shaky breath before speaking.  There was one person who knew her brother almost as well as she did.

“Wendy, it’s Mabel. We need to talk.”

* * *

The closest store was a CVS sitting catty-corner from an abandoned strip mall.  The brick establishment was a behemoth nestled in the woods, competing for dominance with the conifers.  A large LED sign advertised 3 for $10 hair conditioner and buy one get one free vitamins. Bill and Dipper entered through the automatic doors and immediately beelined to the snack section.

“You get ten dollars, so spend it well,” Dipper said. He almost laughed when he realized just how much he sounded like his mom, but it was either stick to a tight budget or wind up on the streets quicker than intended.  Bill nodded and perused the items, inspecting each packet of chips and candy bar individually.

While he busied himself, Dipper went in a separate direction, grabbing a bag of cool ranch Doritos for later.  Mountain Dew was on sale, so he picked out a two liter and set it in the basket. He found himself traversing the perimeter of the store, eventually wandering down the personal care aisle.  The metal shelves were lined with a wide variety of condoms, some he’d never even heard of before. His fingers trembled as he reached for a box and he absentmindedly wondered if he should buy them. Some of the prices were flat out insane, but he’d always advocated that Mabel have safe sex.

Actually, the more Dipper thought about it, the more pointless it seemed. There was no way he could get pregnant - _thank God_ \- and STD’s definitely weren’t a concern.  He returned the box back to its designated space, but picked up a bottle of personal lubricant further down the aisle.  At least it wouldn’t go to waste.

Bill was still poking around the snack section, so he went about finding some toothpaste and a phone charger.  The latter was poorly made and probably wouldn’t last a month, but for $4.99 it served its purpose. Dipper wasn’t about to go back to retrieve the things he’d left behind.

His boyfriend finally returned with an assortment of sugary and savory snacks, pleased with the selections he’d made.  It was mostly junk food, but gourmet meals didn’t cost 99 cents like bags of off-brand gummy bears did.

Dipper emptied their basket onto the counter. The cashier greeted them and began scanning the items and placing them in bags.  Toiletries were nestled amongst their poor man’s feast; toothpaste saddled up against a box of Skittles and a bottle of lube. It certainly wasn’t the weirdest thing the cashier had ever seen, especially growing up in Gravity Falls. He scanned and bagged their items without comment, which Dipper was secretly relieved about. He’d already been embarrassed enough for one lifetime today.

They paid and began the short walk back to the hotel. Night had overtaken the town and a few sparse streetlights and stray fireflies were the only things lighting the path.  A gentle breeze provided relief from the stuffy, humid air.

The door clicked shut behind Bill and Dipper as they entered their shared living quarters.  The younger man set the shopping bags onto the wicker dining table and moved onto priority number two. Now that they had supplies for the week, it was time for a late dinner.

Within twenty minutes, the pair were sitting in bed half-watching TV and chatting while gorging on Lo Mien and sweet and sour chicken.  Bill had quickly grown frustrated with the pair of chopsticks the restaurant provided, and stabbed at his food until Dipper passed him a plastic fork.

“Thanks.”

“Welcome,” Dipper said between bites.  They finished watching a rerun of Supernatural, with constant interjections from Bill: “That’s not how a _real_ demon would’ve handled that”, “Wow, that blood looks so fake...it’s like they’ve never seen the inside of a body before!”, “Dean and Cas are definitely fucking - talk about denial.”

Dipper just laughed and shook his head as he tucked the leftovers into the fridge for a second meal.  Things were starting to wind down, so he stripped the faded duvet from the bed and replaced it with the comforter he’d brought from his room in Piedmont.  It was a small, but significant facet that would help with the transition into their new home.

He watched intently as Bill turned off the television and removed the shirt he’d been wearing, causing his muscles to ripple as he shed the material.  They climbed into bed together and suddenly Dipper couldn’t hold back. All he wanted in that moment was to be defiled by Bill.

Everything was fucked anyway so they might as well finish what they started.

He straddled Bill’s thighs and braced both hands on his shoulders.  Grinding his hips downwards pulled a pleased sound from Bill, who surged up to kiss Dipper senseless.  His movements sparked the kindling and now a fire had reignited between them. Their noses bumped together in their haste, causing them to share a brief laugh before the younger man reached down and snaked his hand into Bill’s boxers.  He rubbed at the semi-hard length waiting there, coaxing it to full attention.

“ _Fuck_ , Dipper.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the point,”  Dipper winked.

Bill hissed and drew Dipper close, in a similar fashion to how he’d hugged him earlier.  But instead of wrapping his arms around the teen, Bill latched his mouth onto Dipper’s throat.  The younger’s dick throbbed in his briefs at the way Bill licked and nipped his pale flesh. For a split second, he worried about the bruises that would be left behind, but quickly remembered that he no longer needed to hide the bite marks dotting the base of his neck.  Dipper’s throat convulsed as he suppressed moans. Any notion of gentle sex sailed straight out the window when Bill bit down against his pulse point and _sucked_.  The action had an almost instantaneous effect on his dick, causing it to ooze pre-cum.

As he lay claim to his neck, Bill rucked up Dipper’s shirt, fingertips skating across the expanse hiding beneath.  The skin-to-skin contact felt hot and made Dipper crave more. “Bill…” The material was quickly yanked over his head and thrown somewhere across the room, and Bill’s hands returned to mapping every inch of the teen’s body.  He pinched at dusky nipples until they had fully hardened, eliciting a sharp hiss from Dipper. A smirk painted itself across Bill’s face; toying with his boyfriend was almost as fun as enslaving the entire human race and forcing them to bow down before his mighty presence.

The rest of the clothing remaining between them was quickly shed.  Simply being naked with Bill was exciting, as any prior shyness had dissipated under the man’s incendiary gaze and was replaced by lust.  Dipper crawled onto the bed on all fours and spread himself open in eager invitation. The brunette’s tight little hole was put on display, waiting to be thoroughly fucked.

Arousal hit Bill with all the force of a freight train.  He settled himself between Dipper’s legs, which the younger man assumed meant that Bill was getting ready to fuck him.  What he hadn’t been expecting was Bill’s tongue laving across the puckered flesh between his cheeks. He squirmed under the tickling sensation, trying to escape the intimate touch.  Bill poured every ounce of enthusiasm into eating him out, licking and sucking and finger-fucking his hole. Every flick of his tongue turned Dipper into a moaning, writhing mess, unable to do anything but press his hips backwards and white-knuckle the sheets underneath him.  Bill lapped at the sensitive skin a few more times and then retrieved the lubricant they’d purchased earlier. The foreplay left Dipper gasping and wondering why he’d never tried it before, but Bill didn’t give him the chance to get lost in his own head before pressing fully inside of him.  His slick length was once more engulfed in velvet heat and it was probably the closest thing to Heaven Bill would ever experience. He clawed at Dipper’s hips, leaving purpling bruises in his wake. The initial discomfort Dipper experienced was far less than what he’d felt this morning. His body was certainly becoming more receptive to Bill as they began to move in unison.

Both men quickly decided that slow, gentle sex would be reserved for another night.  Bill thrusted into Dipper, mimicking the speed they’d set earlier in the Mystery Shack’s kitchen.  It wasn’t long before the blonde was fucking him mercilessly, Dipper’s head pressed to the mattress beneath him.  The only words he was capable of reciting were “Bill”, “more”, “harder”, “fuck” or any combination of the four. A trail of drool ran from his open mouth and pooled onto the comforter as Bill’s dick reduced him to a single brain cell.

Coherent words quickly deteriorated into broken shouts punctuated with moans and sighs from the both of them.  It seemed that Bill was determined to strike the patch inside of Dipper that would make him see stars, though it remained elusive until one carefully-angled thrust.  White bursts crackled behind his eyelids and left Dipper euphoric as pleasure radiated through his entire body like a live circuit. There was no longer any finesse to their movements as they rutted together like animals in heat.     

One particularly forceful snap of Bill’s hips drove Dipper forwards and caused the headboard to smash against the wall.  There was already a sizable dent in the plaster from couples who had partaken in similar sexual forays.

The pair weren’t the first to fuck in this room and they definitely wouldn’t be the last.

Dipper chanted Bill’s name in reverence, unabashed by the whorish sounds falling past his lips.  He was caught in a lust-fueled haze and hadn’t noticed until this very moment that the room adjacent to them was occupied by summer tourists.  The family had quickly caught on to what was taking place and cranked their TV volume up to cover the sounds of sex leaking through the wall.

Dipper almost laughed at the realization as Family Feud blared in the adjoining room.  He decided to take pity on the poor tourists and shift positions. He flipped their bodies until he was sitting on top, staring into Bill’s amber eyes as he set his own pace.  The new position gave him more control over the angle and depth of the thrusts, alternating between shallow and deep strokes. It also provided the family a reprieve from the continuous headboard-smashing.

Coming face to face with Bill increased the level of intimacy tenfold and allowed them to tangle arms around necks and weave hands into hair as they kissed.  Dipper’s lips were swollen and he looked completely wrecked, a result of Bill’s domination and his own slutty submission. Fuck his appearance, and fuck being able to walk straight the next morning. The pleasure was way too intense to have any sort of regrets.  He met Bill’s thrusts as the blonde slammed up into him, unconcerned with anything except chasing his high.

Their hot, uneven breaths mingled together as the kiss was broken.  Half-lidded eyes met in an impromptu staring contest with no end, brown and gold melding together into a striking shade of copper.  The union of triangle and tree was seamless, unable to determine where Dipper ended and Bill began.

“Fuck, Pine Tree.  You take my dick so well,” Bill panted as he peppered kisses along Dipper’s jaw.  “You feel _so fucking good_.”         

“Nghh, so do you,” Dipper huffed.  Bill’s hand had found its way around his cock and he swore he stopped breathing for a second.  The man’s wrist flicked in a steady motion, sliding up and over the head with each pass. He gathered the slick with his thumb, drawing it downward to aid his movements.  Head lolling to the side, Dipper allowed himself to get lost in the sensations. Bill’s length was at the perfect angle, pressing against his prostate with every thrust.  

As endorphins flared and oxytocin reached peak levels, everything became more vibrant, oversaturated sensations akin to an illicit drug.  Dipper covered Bill’s hand with his own as they jacked him off together. They were both drowning in an unparalleled state of bliss, reverting back to the most primal of human tendencies.  Dipper was quickly losing whatever composure he still had left and his cheeks flushed hotter the nearer he came to the finish line.

It only took a few more thrusts for the tightly wound coils of orgasm to begin unraveling.  Bill buried his head into the crook of Dipper’s neck as he grunted out, “Oh fuck, I’m coming...”

“Want it in me,” Dipper huffed, accentuating his words with the roll of his hips. The action kept Bill buried deep inside of him as the man’s cock grew impossibly harder.  A second later he felt overwhelming warmth as a substantial amount of cum flooded his insides and filled him to the brim. The hot, sticky sensation was Dipper’s undoing as he spilled across Bill’s chest and stomach with a cry.

The full weight of Dipper’s body settled onto Bill’s as he slumped against his boyfriend.  Thudding hearts and panting breaths gradually returned to normal as they recovered from the intense sex.  Bill’s softening cock slipped from his body as Dipper rolled onto his side of the bed. His muscles were still involuntarily contracting, forcing the blonde’s cum out of his body.   

Bill had officially deflowered him, but he wasn’t done yet.  Two fingers slid back inside, taking advantage of Dipper’s oversensitive state as he gasped at the unexpected intrusion.  Bill’s tongue swirled between his fingers as he drew his essence outwards and rimmed Dipper for the second time that night.

Pine Tree was quaking down to his roots as full body shivers overwhelmed him.  Had he been born a woman, it would’ve signified orgasm number two, but unfortunately he was already spent.  Bill continued swirling his tongue until Dipper had nothing left to give and was pleading with him to stop. He rejoined Dipper and smoothed his hands through the teen’s hair lovingly as the afterglow set in.         

“That was…,” Dipper paused as he tried to think of intelligent phrases beyond the realm of curse words.

“Amazing? Incredible? Exactly what you dreamed sex with me would be like?” The smirk on Bill’s face alluded to his teasing (and possibly half-serious) comment.

“Even better,” Dipper said.  Sex with Bill was a great pick-me-up and exactly what he’d been needing.  Worry would eventually settle into his bones again, but for now he was completely blissed out and didn’t give a damn about anything else.

Bill actually seemed somewhat surprised; he’d been expecting a sarcastic comment in response, but Dipper had complimented him.  He allowed his ego to inflate just the slightest bit, which was still a ridiculous amount because he was motherfucking Bill Cipher, the best thing to grace this world since… well... himself.  “I’m truly flattered, sweetheart,” he chuckled, ruffling the teen’s hair and pulling him in for a gentle kiss.

Sated and sleepy, the pair exchanged good-nights and sentiments of love.  Dipper stretched and clicked off the overhead light, filling the room with inky blackness as they settled down together in the dark.

* * *

“I dunno, Mabel.  It sounds really screwed up.”  

The redhead’s tone had softened considerably over the past hour.  Initially she’d been pissed off, calling Dipper a “total dumbass” and asking how in the world he could’ve chosen Bill over his own family.  Mabel tried her best to explain what had happened, or at least provide her own version of it. She wasn’t sure how long Bill and Dipper had been like this, since he’d expertly concealed it.  Despite the fact that he’d yelled at her - and it had _hurt_ \- Mabel tried to take an adult approach for once and be the bigger person.  Obviously whatever Dipper was going through right now made him feel uncomfortable and so he needed whatever support he could get.  Sometimes it was hard to set aside her own selfish wants, but Dipper needed Mabel right now.

Eventually, Wendy’s anger ebbed, giving way to the level-headedness she was so well-known for.  “But like, he should realize that _none_ of us would judge him over his sexuality.  I mean, we all attended Durland and Blubs’ wedding a few years ago - don’t you think if we had a problem we would’ve said something?”  Homophobic statements never arose in that time, leading Mabel to assume that it was something they all supported. Even Ford, who had spent most of his time in an interdimensional hell, seemed to share a progressive opinion towards same-sex rights.

Mabel picked at a loose thread on her sweater, twirling it around her finger.  “I know. I guess it’s something he felt embarrassed by. But when he’s ready to deal with it, I want him to know I’ll be right here. Big Sis Mabel on standby in the wings.”

Wendy’s sympathy was evident.  As a big sister herself, she knew that siblings could be assholes, but her love and commitment to them was undying.  It came as part of the family bond they shared. “I’m proud of you for taking it so well. I probably would’ve freaked out if it was me in your shoes.”

“Even if I wanted to be mad at Dipper, I don’t think I could.  It’s not like I haven’t fallen for the wrong guys either.” Her mind drifted to the first summer in Gravity Falls and the endless string of crushes that ended in heartbreak.  Zombie-gnome dude, Mermando, Gabe… There had been more in the following years that she couldn’t list on one hand. Regardless, Dipper had never shunned her, even if he didn’t exactly approve of Mabel’s new boyfriend of the week.

Stan and Ford may have been able to shove a wedge between themselves and their great-nephew, but Mabel had a huge heart and couldn’t bring herself to leave him behind.  There was no way she wanted to be like Stan and Ford someday. The elders were constantly bickering and their relationship was dysfunctional at best.

Things needed to be patched up with Dipper or the gap would only grow.  

“I’m gonna have a talk with the Grunkles tomorrow,” she said, moving from her reclined position to sit on the edge of the bed.  

“Want me to come over?”

“Sure, I could use the support. You know how stubborn they can be.”  Mabel rolled her eyes at the grumpy old men still fussing over the IKEA table.  She heard someone throw something downstairs, and given Ford’s scolding, it was Grunkle Stan.  

“Trust me.  I’ve got three little bros, so I _know_ how to handle stubborn.”  Mabel could almost envision Wendy’s eye roll through the phone.  “I’ll see you in the morning and I’ll bring my dad’s boxing gloves.”   

“Wait, don’t --”

“It’s a joke, silly goose,” Wendy laughed.  “But seriously, if they give you any trouble I’ll do my best to help.  I _did_ manage to talk Stan into giving me that raise.”

“Wow, he actually gave you money?”

“Money?  Nah, just some dented boxes of vending machine snacks.  But it was so friggin’ worth it if you ask me. I was chowing down on Cheetos and barbecue chips for _months_.”

“Hey Wendy?

“Yeah?”

The brunette smiled before speaking.  “You’re the greatest.”

Wendy laughed and nodded even though Mabel couldn’t see it.   

“I know, dude.  I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all of the wonderful comments you guys have been leaving. They're always appreciated and make my day brighter :) If there was anything you particularly enjoyed (or didn't enjoy), let me know! Or if there's any spelling mistakes - all of my works are unbeta'd. 
> 
> **hands out hugs and free cookies**


	12. Doritos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief warning before we dig into this one - there’s a homophobic slur in the first scene, although some people I’ve met have used it to describe themselves openly, so it depends on the reader’s comfort level I guess? 
> 
> Also I'm still trying to recover from this damn cold or whatever it is (yay head congestion >_<) so any mistakes/forgotten words/parts that don't make sense are due to that. Didn't have much time to edit this today.

An assortment of chairs had been arranged in a circle; far too many for just the occupants of the Shack, but it completed the aesthetic Mabel was trying to achieve.  Four of the seats remained empty, the others occupied by an assortment of stuffed animals. Sir Hugginsby, the massive pink bear Bill had won her, sat to Mabel’s left and Wendy was on her right.  Straight across from them, Mabel had forced the Grunkles to sit side by side so she’d be able to make direct eye contact with the pair while she spoke.  

Stan glanced to the chair next to him and had to do a double-take. There was a creepy-looking doll propped up in the seat, which caused him to scoot uncomfortably closer to Ford as he stared into the eerie black voids where the thing’s eyes should have been.  He cleared his throat once there was enough distance between himself and the stuffed nightmare. “What’s all this nonsense? I thought you said you wanted to talk.”

“Pfft, ‘ _nonsense_ ’.  Don’t you see? It’s group therapy!”  She cast her arms outwards into the air, smacking Hugginsby in the face by accident.  “Whoops, sorry,” she apologized to the inanimate mammal, gently stroking his plush nose to soothe away the pain. 

“ _Group therapy?_ ” Stan parroted.  His arms were crossed defensively across his chest as the ridiculous nature of it all settled in.  “Why the hell would I want to talk about my problems with toys?!” 

She waved her hand nonchalantly.  “They’re just here for emotional support.”

The Grunkles’ eyes met and they were both quick to write the whole thing off as just another of Mabel’s ridiculous antics.  She often dragged them into her little fantasy world and it was usually a big waste of time, but they usually entertained her out of fear of upsetting their niece. 

“I’m sorry but we’re fairly busy, girls, could we pick this up another time?” Ford was tactful with his word choice but Stanley always blurted out whatever was on his mind, which oftentimes lured him into dangerous situations or, at the very least, earned him a few slaps across the face. 

“Yeah, we ain’t got time to pretend or have a tea party or whatever the hell you do with these things.”  Out of his periphery, he could’ve sworn he saw the doll move its stubby arm. By this point he’d nearly wormed his way onto Ford’s lap as he attempted to escape Raggedy Ann’s demonic cousin. “It’s been fun but playtime’s over now, okay?”

“Wait, please don’t leave,” Mabel begged as the Grunkles made a move to exit the room.  Her pleading caused them to stop short as they stood facing her, but the brothers still seemed thoroughly disinterested in whatever this whole thing was about.  Stan had a business to run and Ford was always eager to stuff his nose into some boring old book or experiment. But this wasn’t just some pointless playdate. This was serious.   

“We wanted to talk about Dipper,” Wendy clarified, trying to encourage them to stay. 

“Ugh.  Don’t even _mention_ that name around me, Corduroy,” Stan said.  He tried to head for the door again, but Wendy jumped to her feet and viciously barked at him to sit back down.  It caught the elder off guard and his ass dropped back into his chair faster than a lead balloon, his eyes comically wide behind thick-rimmed glasses.  

“Don’t you _dare_ , Stanley Pines.” Wendy knew how to command respect and usually Stan gave it to her, even if he wasn’t sure why at the time.  “You’re not getting out of it that easy. Not until we’ve talked this out first.”

“What is there to say?” Ford piped up.  “Dipper was argumentative and stormed out. I don’t see how any of us are at fault for his actions.”

“Yeah, and he said some pretty fucked up things too,” Stan agreed.  He didn’t recall every single word of the fight, but he’d never forget how Dipper had the balls to say he was a piece of shit.  It replayed in his mind at night and kept him from falling asleep, anger bubbling up inside his gut like a boiling cauldron. Stan had been called many colorful things over the years, but for whatever reason, this one stuck to him like industrial strength adhesive and he just couldn’t shake the emotional upset that jabbed at his core.  

“Oh, like _you’ve_ never said awful stuff about people?” Wendy raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge towards Stan.  If he wanted to make things difficult, she would push right back - she’d amassed a lot of dirt on the man over the handful of years she’d been employed at the gift shop. There were things he didn’t _know_ she knew.  “I always hear you calling people names behind their backs.” 

“That’s because they deserve it.” 

“Well maybe he felt _you_ deserved it, Stan.  You know how to dish out the insults, but you can’t handle it when someone throws it right back in your face.” 

“You’re treading on thin ice here, Wendy.” 

She scoffed, rolling her emerald eyes at the empty threat.  “Yeah right, I know you’d never waste the time or money to hire and train someone new.”  One of the pros of working here for so long was that she knew all of her boss’s idiosyncrasies almost too well; Wendy could usually tell what was going through his mind just by looking at him, and knew how to play her hand to force the outcome in her favor.    

Stan was silent for a minute before he finally exhaled. “Touché.”

“Exactly.” Wendy was unable to hide the smugness that crept into her voice.  She’d tried to quit once before, and it ended with Stan on his knees, arms a vice grip around her calves as he pathetically groveled for her to stay.  The memory was pretty hilarious, but she did her best to suppress it and keep a straight face.        

“Okay, okay, listen - I know Dipper said some pretty horrible things,” Mabel began. She was determined to steer the conversation back on track or they’d be here all day.  “I can’t tell you to just forget about it, but I really think we need to look past all the anger and offer him our support. He needs us right now.” 

“Our support?!” Stan sneered, “I’ve given that brat so much support over the years that I should be considered his personal crutch.  I shouldn’t have to apologize for looking out for him. He’s the one who should be saying thanks to _me_.”  His anger was momentarily redirected as he jabbed Ford’s bicep.  “Bastard takes after you.”  

Stan’s comment tore open old wounds inside of them both.  Ford turned fully in his seat to face his brother. “For Heaven’s sake, Stanley, haven’t you moved past that by now?”  His inability to thank Stan had been one of his shortcomings, yes, but he’d done his best to make amends in the following years and often tried to go out of his way to express his gratitude.  The fact that Stan _still_ wasn’t satisfied caused his face to heat up and his fists to clench.  Ford may have tried to retain his sensibility in times of distress, but he certainly wasn’t beyond resorting to a good old-fashioned fistfight.         

“No, _Stanford_ , I haven’t.  Not my fault that half of the Pines family are ungrateful assholes.”

“Assholes? You’re the one who can’t ask nicely for things!  You think the world owes you for whatever grievances that have befallen you, but it doesn’t, Stanley!  You can’t just demand things and expect them to fall into your lap - that’s not how life works!”    

Wendy was suddenly crowding their space.  “Stop it right now before I slap both of you!”  The brothers’ sharp words died on their tongues as they both stared back at her.  Their hands fell from the other’s lapels and they tucked their tails between their legs, no longer posed to strike at each other. “You’re behaving like petulant little children.  You _know_ Dipper’s grateful for what you’ve given him.  Mabel is too. But that’s not what this whole thing is about.” Her tone was reduced from scolding to something gentler as she tried to appeal to the siblings. “You’re both willing to cut him out of your lives over nothing - so what if he likes guys or doesn’t say thank you as much as you think he should?  He’s your blood relative and you’re driving him away, just like you did forty-whatever years ago. Look how that turned out.”    

There was a long beat before anyone spoke again.  In the silence, Stan and Ford eyed each other, exchanging mute apologies.  It was difficult to set aside their differences and refrain from picking each other apart most days, but despite it all, they truly cared for one another.  If they didn’t, Stanley wouldn’t have spent decades trying to rescue Ford. They wouldn’t still be here, cohabiting the Mystery Shack and inviting their relatives to spend the summer. 

Ford seemed upset, his voice wavering uncharacteristically.  “He… thinks we’re mad at him over his sexuality?” 

“He obviously didn’t feel comfortable telling us,” Mabel said, sadness tugging at her words.  “I’m sure he never wanted it to happen like this.” 

“I could care less if he liked men, women, or was sexually attracted to the Eiffel Tower,” Stan said.  “Hell, even _I_ experimented at his age.”  He’d never told his parents either - they already thought he was a deadbeat - he didn’t need to be degraded further by being called a faggot on top of it all.  If anyone should understand what Dipper was feeling right now, it was him. “Tail is tail, ya chase it or ya don’t. There was this kid from high school - Bryce Crenshaw - man, the ass on that guy was insane.  Kept the ol’ spank bank full for _years_.”

Ford had one hand curled against his face, eyes screwed shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I don’t think any of us want to hear about your ‘sexcapades’ right now.” 

“Or ever,” Wendy grimaced. 

“Fine, I get it.  Anyway, it’s not his sexuality that’s the problem.  It’s his attitude. And Bill. I’m not crazy about the idea of him and Dipper fucking around. Literally or otherwise.”  The old table was most likely on its way to the dump by now, and good riddance. He shuddered as images of the two going at it popped back into his brain - he’d tried so hard to purge them but he’d probably be haunted by it for the rest of his life.  

Too bad the memory gun had been destroyed or he’d have blasted himself by now.          

“We may not understand it, but it’s Dipper’s choice,” Mabel said. Like it or not, the twins had grown up fast, now fully capable of making their own decisions in life and taking responsibility for the consequences.  Mabel passed around the photo strip she’d stumbled across yesterday night. “I found this in his tux. It’s from the wedding - they look so happy together. Isn’t that what you want for Dipper? To be happy?” 

Stan and Ford’s faces fell as they collectively studied the pictures.  Even Wendy hadn’t seen them until now. There was no denying that the images spoke louder than any words ever could; they held truths that even Dipper had been too ashamed to admit.   

“Grunkle Stan,” Mabel broke the silence, a steady calmness to her voice. “I know your parents probably wouldn’t have accepted you, but that should be more reason to defend Dipper, don’t you think?”

Both of the elders were quiet for a long time, each attempting to sort through a deluge of thoughts and emotions.  Finally Ford rose. “Let us talk this over in private for a moment.” 

The brothers excused themselves to another room, leaving Wendy and Mabel nervously awaiting their return.  It seemed to take forever, the minutes dragging on almost painfully. Finally, after close to a half hour, the two reappeared, bearing unreadable expressions as they filed through the doorway. 

“Well?” the redhead inquired.  The question came too quickly, betraying her calm exterior and uncovering the bed of pins she and Mabel were currently sitting on as they waited for some response.  

“Stanley and I discussed the situation at length, and we decided that it isn’t our place to judge Dipper.”

The younger brother nodded his shared agreement.  The gruff, harsh tone that was so inherently _Stan_ had evaporated and he was left sounding almost vulnerable, soft. 

“And when he’s ready to talk, we’ll be here for him.”  

* * *

When Bill opened his eyes, the room was still dark.  There was no indication of the time aside from the alarm clock perched beside him on the nightstand.  According to the glaring red digits, it was already 10am, but without actually knowing, he would’ve guessed it was only 4am.  This was due to the fact that the heavy polyester jacquard curtains were drawn from the previous night, shielding their tiny haven against the bright morning rays.  Dipper’s body was curled snugly against the length of Bill’s back, one arm bent on his pillow and the other wrapped around his lover’s waist. Bill reached up to turn on the overhead light, the movement stirring the brunette, who glanced up with groggy, squinted brown eyes.  

“So,” Bill laughed, “little Dipper’s the big spoon now, huh?”  He flipped over onto his other side so they were now facing each other.  As a natural-born night owl, Dipper hated that Bill was so chipper in the morning.  He grunted his annoyance and tried to bury his face back into the fabric of his pillow, but Bill was having none of it.  He yanked the pillow out from underneath Dipper’s head and started smacking him with it.   

“Wakey wakey, sleepy head!”  He kept hitting Dipper even as the teen yelled for him to stop.  Having had enough, Dipper sat up and snatched the pillow out of Bill’s grasp, fully intent on shoving him off the other side of the bed.  But the wide grin Bill was giving him was somehow endearing and he settled for a half-hearted insult instead.

“You’re such an ass.”

Bill’s grin transformed into a smirk.  He couldn’t argue with that one. “Yeah, but you love it.”  As Bill moved in to kiss him, Dipper flinched away.  

“Wait!” he nearly screamed. 

Bill looked taken aback.  “What’s wrong?” 

“Go brush your teeth first.  Mouthwash too,” Dipper ordered.  Morning breath was never fun, but Bill had also eaten him out twice last night and that only added to the list of reasons why dental hygiene was a must.  “I’ll join you in a second.”

Bill took a piss and then moved to the sink to wash his hands and swig a bit of Listerine.  He was just spitting the burning fluid into the powder-blue sink when Dipper passed through the door frame and plodded up alongside him.  They brushed their teeth in silence, arms occasionally bumping as they shared the basin and stared back at their reflections in the mirror.  When they were finished and both toothbrushes were tucked neatly into place, the older man turned to face him.  

“Better?” Bill asked, flashing pearly whites in Dipper’s direction.  

The younger laughed and pulled the blonde into his personal space.  “Much better,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck and finally letting himself be kissed.  The taste of mint was overpowering, yet still preferable to not brushing. Starting off the morning with a languid makeout session was definitely something he could get used to.  

“So, I guess this is like our own little honeymoon, huh?” Bill asked as they exited the bathroom, flicking off the light behind him.

Dipper was already peeling off his pajamas and changing into proper clothing by this point.  “You have to be married to go on a honeymoon.”

“Is that an invitation, Pine Tree?”

“What? No, I ---” He quickly became flustered, head briefly getting caught in the collar of his shirt before he yanked it down across his torso.  

“Cause if it is, I’ll think about it,” Bill winked. He dragged his bare feet across the carpet as he approached. “But I’m also thinking about breakfast, and that’s a little more important right now.”

Dipper made a face out of mock-annoyance.  They hadn’t been awake for more than 10 minutes and Bill was already mentioning food.  “Are you ever _not_ hungry?”

“Hey, you try going without eating for a few trillion years and see how _you_ feel.”

Dipper shook his head and wandered over to the wicker dining set and rummaged through the contents of the grocery bags, pulling out boxes of candy and other junk.  Dismayed, he realized they hadn’t purchased anything last night that would be suitable for breakfast. Unsure of what to do, he paced for a second before recalling that he’d seen two vending machines in a corridor outside.  “I’ll be right back.” He snagged his wallet from the pocket of the jeans he’d worn yesterday and moved outdoors to find something to eat. He quickly located his targets and weighed the options.

Aside from the savory snacks, none of which seemed appropriate nor appetizing at this hour, there were a few brands of granola bars, packets of bite-sized cookies, and some Little Debbie Honey Buns. 

Bingo. 

They were the closest thing to a breakfast pastry he could find.  Regardless, fried dough glazed in sugar should be a big hit with Bill. 

He fed the crinkled notes into the machine and had to push them back into the slot several times before they were finally accepted.  Dipper punched in his selections and waited until the items dropped and his change was dispensed.

Reentering the room, he threw the package at Bill, hitting him in the side.  The blonde picked up the treat, glancing it over before starting to tear open the crinkly plastic. “Aww, a Honey Bun for your honey bun?  You’re so sweet Dipper,” Bill teased. He playfully batted his long eyelashes at the brunette. 

“Shut up.”  Dipper plopped onto the bed next to Bill and jabbed a bony elbow into his ribs.

Bill swallowed the sticky dough in his mouth and raised an eyebrow.  “Make me.” 

“Just eat the damn thing before I shove it down your throat.” 

“That’s not the only thing you can shove down my throat.” 

Dipper almost choked on the pastry as he caught Bill’s playful banter.  He was back to his old personality again after yesterday’s guilt trip - it hadn’t taken long.  Seeing his reaction, Bill laughed darkly and grabbed Dipper’s hand, nearly causing him to drop his breakfast onto the floor.  He popped the brunette’s fingers into his mouth one by one, licking and sucking at the translucent icing lingering there. Not a single sugary morsel was left behind by the time he was finished.   

“You’re so cute, you know that?  The whole innocent doe-eyed thing… but we both know you love it when I tease you.” Bill had moved behind him and was snaking a hand around to push beneath Dipper’s shirt and thumb at his nipples.  The brunette’s mouth fell slack beneath the touches and he settled against Bill’s collarbone. “Look at yourself, Dipper,” Bill urged. He was nodding towards the mirrored dresser that was stationed in front of their queen-sized bed.  “You’re gorgeous.” 

Dipper’s eyes flicked upwards, biting his lip as he saw Bill’s reflection meet his gaze in the polished glass.  The idea of watching himself get fucked from behind caused his cheeks to tinge pink, but his rational side won over for the time being.  His fantasies could wait until later. 

“Shit, Bill, just finish your breakfast.”

“Why, do I get dessert if I’m a good boy?”    

He knew Bill could feel the shiver that surged down his spine but he chose to ignore it and busy himself with stuffing his face. “We’ll see.”

* * *

There weren’t many places they could go that didn’t cost money, so much of Bill and Dipper’s time over the next eight days was spent in their shared room.  In a little over a week, Dipper quickly discovered that Bill had a voracious sexual appetite that only the brunette could sate. Sometimes Dipper felt like he couldn’t keep up.  

They’d had sex more times than any sane person should, and today was shaping up to be more of the same. 

Lunch was full of teasing quips and inappropriate jokes exchanged between them. At one point, Dipper found a perfectly triangular Dorito and made a point of methodically dragging his tongue along it, gathering the flavorful seasoning in his mouth as the chip soaked up his saliva. 

Bill was staring at him from across the table, golden eyes glued to every movement Dipper was making.  “What the _hell_ are you doing?” 

“Eating,” he replied simply.  “Why, is something wrong?” He repeated the process with another unbroken chip, licking it even slower this time with half-lidded eyes and a soft moan.  

Dipper was purposely toying with him and it was working, turning Bill on for whatever strange reason.  It probably - no, _definitely_ \- had something to do with his prior demonic form and Dipper was exploiting that knowledge for his own personal gain.  “I dunno, I’m pretty sure that’s not how you’re supposed to eat those.”

“Says who?” Dipper challenged, sucking on one of the rounded edges.  “I think they taste better this way.” Inexplicably, he found Bill crouched in front of his chair, tugging at the waistband of his pants.  Dipper made no move to fight it, just grabbed another Dorito and stared down at the blonde as he licked a broad stripe over it before popping the chip into his mouth.  Bill’s breath hitched audibly as he locked eyes with Dipper, exposing the teen's length to the chilled air. He kitten-licked his way across the tip, trailing warm breaths along the ridge.  Ex-dream demon here clearly had some sort of oral fixation, at least as far as Dipper was concerned. Not that he minded, though. If this was another link in the chain of sins that earned him a one-way ticket to Hell, he was determined to have at least earned his damnation.

Bill worked Dipper with carefully coordinated sucks and strokes, long fingers grazing areas that responded beautifully beneath his touch.  Each movement sent pleasure swirling through his abdomen, delightful and heavy all at once. Just as he was cresting, a loud ringtone pierced the thick air.  It shocked Dipper from his hazy high, and he considered ignoring the call for a minute, but thought better of it upon seeing the caller ID. His parents had picked the worst possible time to check in - even five minutes later would’ve been more ideal. He pressed a single finger to his mouth, signaling for Bill to stay quiet, and answered the phone.  

“H-hey, what’s up?” 

“Hi Dipper! How’s everything going?” His mom’s chipper voice greeted him on the other line.  “I just wanted to check in. Mabel’s been calling me every week, but I haven’t heard much from you lately.” 

“Oh, I’ve been...doing stuff… just busy.” 

“What kinda stuff?” 

_Acting like an entitled asshole, telling off the Grunkles, getting my dick sucked by my former sworn enemy..._

“Just hanging out with Mabel and Wendy.  Reading some books, that kinda thing...” Bill sucked hard, a devilish gleam in his eyes as he took Dipper down to the hilt.  The brunette fought with everything in him to bite back the ragged moans bubbling up in his throat, desperate to compose himself for his mother’s sake. 

“Are you alright? It sounds like you’re breathing pretty heavy…?” 

“Yeah! Uhm, yeah.  Just... went for a jog.  Wanted to get out and clear my head,” he lied.  He had to put on his most convincing voice possible, something that he’d practiced time and time again to cover his and Mabel’s asses from getting grounded.  “Nothing to worry about.”  

“Okay, honey.”  Good, she’d bought it.  “Just make sure you use your inhaler if you start feeling short of breath. You know if you have an asthma attack and need to go to the hospital, our insurance won’t cover it out of state.”  Dipper had fully expected that type of response from her. Their mom was constantly fretting over budgets and spending, keeping the family funds reined in on a tight leash. It was actually a little distressing that she seemed to care more about finances than her children, but that’s the way she’d always been - slightly cold and indifferent to her children’s desires, but far from cruel. Just not the most attentive or sympathetic mother in the world, and that, paired with a workaholic father who was always away at tech conferences, led to Mabel and Dipper relying on each other a lot more than siblings should ever have to. 

“I’ll - _hah_ \- try to be careful,” he wheezed.  Bill’s nails smoothed against his sides, inciting ticklish shivers that charged up his spine and ended in his curled toes.  His cock pulsed out bitter fluid that was quickly lapped up by the blonde’s eager tongue. Teeth tore violently into his lower lip as Dipper suppressed a trembling curse that threatened to spill out.

His mother paused slightly, trying to think of something to make the conversation seem less forced.  There was no doubt that she’d never been close to Dipper, mostly disinterested in his personal life. But as long as he achieved high grades in school and made the Dean’s List each semester, she was happy.  “So… are you excited for college? Not much longer to go now, huh?”    

“Yeah, looking forward to it…” He dug his free hand into Bill’s scalp and tried to slow the pace, but the ex-demon was having none of it.  He swatted Dipper’s hand away and bobbed his head faster, bent on felling his sweet tree. 

“Well that’s good,” she smiled.  “I think it’ll be beneficial for you to pursue something worthwhile like your Uncle Stanford.  He’s such a brilliant man - twelve doctorates is quite impressive. Who knows - maybe someday you’ll follow in his footsteps.”   

Honestly, Dipper missed half of what she’d said due to the blood roiling in his ears, but it didn’t matter much anyway.  She seemed content to blather away while he feigned interest, truly only focused on Bill edging him to completion. He’d mutter a canned response to whatever she had to say, just enough to keep her occupied.

Bill doubled his efforts, dragging him further towards the point of no return.  Dipper half wanted to slap Bill for making the situation worse with each passing second, but all he could do was claw at the chair and pray his mom hung up before he spiraled out of control.  

But luck, it seemed, was never on Dipper’s side. 

Oh shit, oh _fuck_ … he was coming - **_now_ ** \- and the only thing he could think to do was bite down on his knuckles to keep from blurting out his pleasure.  Bill pulled him deep into his throat as wave after wave slammed into him, every muscle in his body tensing. He forgot himself for a moment and groaned, instantly regretting the noise as it trailed from his mouth.

“Dipper?  Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m just feeling a little sore from that jog…” He found himself pulling another lie from thin air, blinking stupidly at Bill as he tried to will his blurred vision back to normal.  “Um, listen, it’s been great catching up mom,” he chirped, eager to end the awkward conversation as soon as possible. “I’ll see you in a few weeks when we get back.”      

“Okay, Dipper, see you then.” 

As soon as the call disconnected, Dipper threw his phone over to the bed and buried his face in his hands. “Shit, do you realize how close that was?!”  His heart was thrumming a hundred beats per minute while Bill just sat calmly on his heels, thoroughly pleased with himself and his work.    

“You’re the one who decided to answer the phone, Dipstick,” Bill smirked.  He snagged the abandoned bag of Doritos from the table and imitated Dipper’s earlier actions.  “But you are right about one thing,” he purred, licking the broad side of the chip with several strokes of his tongue.

 “They _do_ taste better this way.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kinda wrote itself, I wasn't sure what direction it was going in, but more BillDip smut is never a bad thing, right? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	13. Out in the Open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled with this chapter, despite knowing exactly what direction I wanted to take it. General depression and writer’s block are two things I’ve been trying to overcome the past few weeks. I apologize for the delay in getting this up!

Two weeks of confinement in a cramped motel room left Dipper restless and annoyed.  Not to say that Bill made for bad company; he was actually rather interesting and had helped the teen retain some sort of sanity as the days dragged on.  There was a term for the emotional distress Dipper was experiencing - _stir-crazy_ \- and the morning was simply too gorgeous to pass up.  Staring out the dusty window pane at the patch of woods across the street, Dipper made up his mind.  Today they were going to get out and have some fun, however loose that definition might be.   

Bill had his nose shoved in a book and hardly looked up when Dipper shifted from the spot he’d been perched in for the past five minutes.  The boy had boring taste when it came to literature, undoubtedly akin to his Uncle Ford’s. Astrophysics and cosmology were hardly riveting subjects, which meant that Bill was mostly daydreaming as his mind wandered to other things.  Occasionally he’d snap back to the current moment, rereading the same sentence for the fourth time but not actually processing it. Finally, Dipper spoke up and broke the monotony.

“Let’s go out.”

“We’re already going out, dummy. Unless you have a fancy date planned. Wine and dine your dreamy beau.” A dry chuckle came as the book was abandoned on the nightstand and Bill shifted to sit on the duvet with his legs crossed. A glass of red wine sounded _amazing_ right now. 

“No, I meant going outside on a hike. Just us and nature.” 

Bill shrugged. “Sounds like a date to me.” 

“Call it whatever you want. We could both use some fresh air.”  Dipper gathered water bottles and other miscellany into a drawstring bag and shouldered it on his back. He slid his phone into his pocket even though it wouldn’t be much use out of range of the cell towers - at least they could still dial 911 in case of an emergency. 

Satisfied, he tied the frayed shoelaces on his Converse and waited until Bill was ready before heading out the door.  The family that had been occupying the adjoining room on the first night of their stay had long since vacated the premises, and in their place were a blonde woman with tight curls and a man in his thirties who looked like a less-attractive version of Tom Cruise.  They were currently standing around, smoking cigarettes outside their door. Both shot looks of disgust and annoyance at Bill and Dipper, the guy going so far as to stub out his cigarette and yell something like “you fucking queers!” It caught Bill’s attention, along with several other patrons navigating the parking lot as they retrieved luggage from a gray SUV.  Dipper caught the blonde’s arm, trying to hold him back as he told Bill it wasn’t worth it and to leave it alone. But the man either hadn’t heard him, or didn’t care, because he marched straight up to the douchebag to confront him. “Sorry, didn’t quite catch that. Wanna say it again?” The gleam in Bill’s eyes was unmistakable - murderous. Dipper had seen it before and knew it meant trouble. 

“ _Fucking_. _Queers_ ,” the guy ground out, challenging Bill as he encroached his space. 

“Bill, please — ”

He brushed off Dipper’s appeals, intent on teaching the man a lesson. “Listen up, asshole - don’t ever let me hear you say that again, or I can promise you you’ll regret it.  You have _no idea_ who you’re screwing with.”

“Is that a threat?” 

“It’s a warning,” Bill hissed.  “And FYI, our sex is _mindblowing_.  My boyfriend’s got a tight little ass, unlike your nasty whore over there.” He nodded towards the guy’s partner, who looked exceptionally offended as she flipped Bill off. “I bet she’s looser than — ” 

“Okay, that’s enough!” Dipper was physically dragging him away now, his cheeks burning as the guy yelled at them to fuck off and shouted a few more colorful terms.  The other guests were subjected to second-hand embarrassment as they kept their heads down, noses firmly tucked in their own business. 

Dipper waited until they had crossed the paved road separating the property from the forest before turning fully to Bill.  He raked both hands across his face, trying to recover from the brief, yet mortifying encounter. They were lucky the guy didn’t pull a gun or something.  “People like that are the exact reason I’ve been afraid of coming out.”

Bill glanced over his shoulder, noticing that the homophobes had retreated back into their room.  “Fuck them and their shitty opinions. I’d love to snap their necks, or rip out their throats - they’re lucky I’m not a demon anymore.”  His hands clenched instinctively in a desperate effort to conjure blue flames, but they wouldn’t come. However, that didn’t prevent him from smirking lopsidedly as he pictured every bone in their bodies exploding with the snap of a finger.  What he wouldn’t give to see them suffer. 

“Yeah, that might’ve worked before but now you’d end up in jail.”  Dipper didn’t want to entertain the idea of only being able to see Bill during visiting hours through a thick glass window.  That kind of scenario would probably kill him. He shook his head and dispelled any additional negative thoughts that popped into his head. “Come on, let’s go on a walk.  I refuse to let that wonderful little encounter derail the entire day.”  

The phone in Dipper’s pocket flicked over to NO SERVICE not long after breaking through the evergreen partition dividing civilization from wilderness.  For now, all technology was forgotten. The woods carried an unrivaled peace that could not be bested by anything the modern world had to offer. 

Crisp air carried an excess moisture that came as a reprieve from the overbearing July heat.  The dew-laden underbrush remained untouched by human and animal alike, sprawling untamed as far as the eye could see.  As they trekked into the forest, Dipper found himself distracted by the beauty of it all. He threaded his hand with Bill’s, eager to leave judgmental assholes like that behind. 

Instead, he focused on the broken patches of sunlight that filtered against the forest floor, the swaying branches above casting dancing shadows where the rays could not reach.  They walked in silence, the man’s insults already starting to fade from his mind. Here, Dipper felt at home. 

The peace was short lived, however, as twelve minutes in, Bill began complaining that his feet hurt.  Dipper masked his amusement - Bill was so damn dramatic at times. “You’re honestly ridiculous.”

“I can’t help it.” Being able to float everywhere was one thing - having to walk was another. Another part of the human condition that absolutely sucked, along with sweat and incessantly itchy mosquito bites.  He’d never understand how people could do this for _fun_.  

“You’ll be fine.  Just grin and bear it.” 

“Easy for you to say; you’ve had 18 years’ worth of experience,” Bill groaned, leaning against his boyfriend for support.  “Don’t ya wanna carry me?”

Any efforts to suppress his amusement failed in that moment as Dipper stopped mid-stride to face Bill with a look that reiterated his earlier comment about the blonde being ridiculous. “You’re literally trillions of years older than I am, and you’re asking me to carry you like a baby?”

“I was thinking more like bridal style, but that works too.”

“Not a chance, _baby_.”  Dipper shook his head with a laugh and continued weaving his way through the grand fir trees.  “Try to keep up.”

* * *

There was nothing. No new discoveries, which came as something of a disappointment.  The only creatures they’d come across were gray squirrels the size of ants, but it was likely they’d come into contact with the size-altering crystals he and Mabel had found during their first summer in Oregon.  Dipper wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting; it seemed like some of the town’s oddities had dried up after Weirdmaggedon. Gravity Falls was still a hub for strange events, but nothing compared to Bill’s self-made apocalypse.  That would _always_ take the cake.     

Dipper dug the tip of his sneaker into the rich earth, rooting it around carelessly as he sipped at his water.  Bill had already chugged half his bottle in one gulp, apparently unfamiliar with the concept of pacing oneself. They’d stopped here a few minutes ago for a short repose to reenergize and have a snack.  The pair sat on a flat, wide boulder and split a granola bar, chatting and laughing about nothing in particular. The long pauses between their conversations were interspersed with the distant trill of birdsong and a lone woodpecker seeking out breakfast.

In the middle of a sentence, he caught Bill staring, the words trailing off as his brain redirected itself to the present.  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Dipper already knew the answer - it was the same expression he’d seen countless times after sex, when Bill held him tight and they exchanged lazy kisses and affectionate words. 

Bill’s fingertips brushed stray curls from the brunette’s eyes, the signature birthmark peeking out underneath.  “I don’t care what anyone thinks, Dipper. Not your uncles, or some jackass at a motel. I’m in love with you.”

Even after spending every waking moment together, the warm flutter of butterflies still managed to turn Dipper’s insides to mush, those three words never failing to make him melt. “I love you too. I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”  When he’d become such a sappy romantic, Dipper couldn’t say, but he secretly enjoyed every second of it. It went beyond physical pleasure with Bill, despite their first few lust-fueled encounters and mutual pining.   

He leaned forward as their lips met, a gentle kiss that truly rivaled some of the more passionate ones. Being alone in the woods with the man he’d fallen so hard for only reaffirmed Dipper’s decision to leave everything else behind.  It may have sucked at first, but he didn’t regret it. “We should head back. Maybe grab a shower.” 

“And give our lovely neighbors something to listen to.  We’ll make them regret not packing earplugs.” Gorgeous golden orbs flickered suggestively and Dipper fell prey to his charm for what could only be the hundredth time that week.  

“Hmm, works for me,” he purred, smiling against Bill’s lips. 

“Afterwards, you can massage my feet,” Bill winked, and the moment was broken as Dipper made a sound of disgust. “Hey, they’re nowhere _near_ as bad as Stan’s.”

“That’s true, but I’m _really_ not in the mood to discuss my great uncle’s foot fungus right now.”

“Really? I thought you humans enjoyed talking about crusty heels and toe jam,” Bill added sarcastically. 

Dipper actually gagged that time, the ex-demon’s words conjuring images he’d rather not think about so shortly after eating. “Ew, you’re so gross!” He shoved Bill hard enough to push him off the rock, but the blonde’s hand shot up and clutched Dipper’s sleeve at the last second.  They both went tumbling down, the brunette’s breath knocked from his lungs as he landed on his back. He was breathing hard as Bill settled over him, pinning the younger’s hands down against the moist earth. 

“Is it disgusting when I do this?”  He leaned down and kissed Dipper, stealing away the breath the teen was trying so desperately to regain.  A moment later, Bill’s lips parted from his with a soft, wet sound.  

“ _So_ disgusting.  You definitely shouldn’t do that again,” Dipper teased, eyes fluttering closed as they made out in the dirt. 

* * *

The moment the pair stepped foot into the room, Dipper’s cell alerted him to a missed call and voicemail.  He fished the phone from his pocket and felt his heart sink as he sat down on the mattress’s edge. 

“It’s Mabel.”   

He knew the nature of her call - it undoubtedly pertained to the argument and their subsequent departure, where they were staying and if he was okay.  The animosity had fizzled out and left him feeling empty. He’d had enough time to reflect on it in the silences between lovemaking and worrying about his bank account and making sure they had enough to eat.  But typical Dipper had been too stubborn to make the first move, and now here they were: Mabel extending an olive branch towards him because he’d been too selfish to do it himself. 

“Hah, not a peep for the past two weeks and _now_ she decides to bother with you?” Bill scoffed as he peeled off his dirt-caked shoes and threw them haphazardly.  A pair of socks followed suit. “Sounds like she’s trying to suck up.”

“Stop,” Dipper protested weakly.  He choked down the lump forming in his throat as he toyed with the idea of returning Mabel’s call.  Fingertips twitched along the edges of his iPhone, but he couldn’t bring himself to commit to it just yet. 

Across the room, Bill shrugged off his shirt and changed into a fresh one.  “Sorry sweetheart, but I’ve never exactly been _fond_ of your family.”

“Gee, I never would’ve guessed.  I thought you trying to massacre all of us was just your way of showing affection.”

“Smartass.”

“Dumbfuck.”

A kiss to the temple was Bill’s response, followed by the playful flick of his middle finger. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Pine Tree, otherwise I’d have fucked you up by now.”

“Well, considering you’ve only ever _fucked_ me, I take it we’re on friendly terms?” 

Bill ruffled his hair and winked.  “For now.” He plopped onto the mattress next to Dipper, sprawling out like a cat in a strip of warm sunlight.  “You already know how I feel. I’d keep giving that bitchy sister of yours the cold shoulder if I were you.” 

“ _Bill_.” Eyes and voice hardened - it was a stern warning to shut the hell up.  “She’s not bitchy. She’s just… hurt. Remember how awful you felt when I pushed you away?  I’m sure that’s what Mabel’s going through right now.”     

Bill may have nodded but he didn’t want to relive that experience.  Every second of it had been torture, and _not_ the fun kind.  He stared long and hard at Dipper before finally conceding.  “Fine. Call her.”   

With shaking fingers, Dipper selected Mabel’s name and pressed the phone icon.  They would have to talk at some point - be it now or on the ten hour bus trip back to California in a few days.  The journey was already difficult enough without any added strain. A crushing ache burned the space behind his ribs as he waited for her to pick up. 

“Hello?”

“Hey. I... saw that you called.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” she tried, a weary smile remaining lost to him over the audio-only connection.  “You and Bill.”

“We’re fine,” Dipper said, absentmindedly picking at the skin around his nails until it stung, “we’ve been holding our own, I guess.”

“Where are you?”

“A motel.”

“Oh.”

Silence.  The conversation was clearly forced on both of their behalves.  After a minute, Mabel spoke again. “I talked things over with Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford... I wanted to know if you wanted to meet for lunch today.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea...”

“Please, Dipper?” She cut him off, an attempt to override his doubt.  “The Grunkles won’t be coming. Only me. I wanna see you again.” Mabel would be sent as a lone representative of their group; she was concerned that the very presence of the Grunkles might cause Dipper to back out, and therefore a gentler approach was needed.  “It’s just… I’ve missed you a lot, Mason.” 

The use of his real name struck a chord deep inside, caused Dipper’s chest to tighten as guilt prickled his heart.  “Mabel…I miss you too.” He chanced a look at Bill, the blonde pressing him to continue. Dipper inhaled deeply, steeling himself to face his sister again.  

“Where did you want to meet?” 

* * *

They collectively settled on a family-owned diner halfway between the motel and the Mystery Shack.  Monroe’s was a shining metal rectangle inset with rows of block glass windows and neon lights. It was larger than Greasy’s, at three times the capacity, and a popular haunt with long-distance truckers in search of a midnight meal. 

Mabel was waiting outside when Bill and Dipper arrived.  She’d affixed a temporary tattoo at the corner of her eye as a way to lighten up the heavy situation, the tiny pair of glittery cherries sparkling in the midday sun, just barely visible behind the arm of her tinted sunglasses.

“Shooting Star! Long time no see.” 

She acknowledged Bill’s greeting with a wave and a smile.  “Hi guys, thanks for agreeing to meet me here.” 

“Sure.” There was a strange awkwardness between the twins that had never existed before and Dipper hated it.  The beginnings of a rift formed between them, something he neither wanted nor intended. At the start of the summer, he’d made a promise that he would never let anything come between himself and Mabel, no matter how terrible the situation became. 

They walked up the concrete ramp to the door, a petite hostess welcoming them as they stepped into a wall of air-conditioning.  She sat the trio in a booth near a sprawling mural that depicted a lake scene. It didn’t fit with the restaurant’s theme whatsoever, but must’ve held some significance with the owners if they’d decided to leave it untouched.  Parts of the painting were discolored from dried ketchup stains, flung by children in the throes of a tantrum, or streaked with crayon scribblings while their parents were distracted. Otherwise, the place was pretty well taken care of, even with the continuous flow of regular customers and summer tourists passing through its doors.  

Not wanting to feel trapped, Dipper pushed Bill into the booth first, opting for the end seat so he could make a hasty exit if needed.  He didn’t intend on running again, but if things turned sour he needed a way out. 

While they’d never had so-called ‘twin ESP’, the siblings could sense the other’s nervousness.  He picked up on Mabel’s anxiety by the way her eyes kept landing on him and quickly darting away.  She shifted on her side of the booth, a peeling sound following as she detached her bare legs from the crimson-hued vinyl.  “Order whatever you want. Lunch is on the Mabester today.” She jerked a thumb in her direction and grinned. False confidence was Mabel’s specialty. 

They poured over the extensive laminated menus for some time, sitting in mute silence.  The clank of utensils against plates and idle chatter blended with the soft rock music flowing from the ceiling speakers.  Somehow it instilled feelings of comfort and Dipper allowed himself to relax against the backrest.  

This whole meeting channeled an earlier memory of visiting Greasy’s Diner for breakfast, back when they’d treated “New Guy” to pancakes and coffee. Back before they’d known Bill’s true identity, and before the whole clusterfuck that had become his current reality.  

It was funny, in the most ironic of ways, how things had progressed.  

Their waiter arrived shortly afterwards, jotting down drink selections and asking if they needed more time. The group shook their heads and put in their order right away.  Mabel waited until they received their drinks and the waiter disappeared through swinging double doors before attempting any sort of conversation. “Wendy and I decided this was the best way to reach out to you. I’m glad I took her advice…”  

Dipper almost choked on his drink.  “Fuck, Mabel, you told _Wendy?!”_

“Calm down.” She smoothed her palm over Dipper’s wrist, a gesture from childhood that never failed to get him to relax. “She’s cool with it. The Grunkles too.”

“Does anyone else know?” Dipper’s heart skipped a few beats as he prayed to whatever god was listening that she hadn’t let it slip to their parents. 

“We filled in Soos and Melody when they got back from Florida.  They were kinda shocked into silence at first but they’ve definitely come around.  No one else knows.”

A slight sense of relief washed over him with her words.  At least now he didn’t need to sit them all down and tell them he was sleeping with Bill.  That was a conversation he certainly hadn’t been looking forward to. In a calmer tone, he asked, “so how’d you manage to convince everyone?”

“Simple. I just used the power of Mabel!” It was a sure bet that if she’d had any glitter, it would’ve been tossed into the air above her and rained down in a sparkling flourish for added dramatic effect.  “Actually, we held a group therapy sesh. Wendy helped out with that, too.”  

“So she wasn’t upset or anything...?”

“At first, yeah, but I talked her down.”  Mabel snickered as she remembered Wendy’s words.  “She called you a dumbass.”

A weary smile graced his features and he nodded his agreement.  “I guess I deserve that title.”

Their water arrived back at the table, tray full of dishes in hand.  “Here we are,” he set their plates down in front of them and told them to enjoy.  It was no elegant steak dinner complete with the works, but after days of junk food and microwaved leftovers, it might as well have been.  Dipper was just thankful today’s lunch didn’t come straight out of a vending machine. 

Bill and Mabel dug in, but he hesitated.  “What about Grunkle Stan? He was really pissed.” 

“Dipper, you don’t have to worry anymore.  It’s all taken care of.” Her tone was soft, tender.  It was obvious he was still having doubts, being the sibling that was less likely to take words at face value.  Dipper was the sort of person who needed proof or it would bother him for the rest of his life. “Oh, I forgot,” Mabel piped up between forkfuls of salad, “I found this the other day.”  She opened her purse and slid the photo strip across the table, carefully avoiding the rings of condensation that seeped out from beneath their glasses. “I thought maybe you’d want it back.”

_Shit_. Dipper had forgotten all about it in his haste.  He quickly grabbed it and tucked it into his wallet for safekeeping.  “Thanks.”  

“Welcome.  You know, you guys are really cute together.” 

Bill, who had been mainly silent up until this point, chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Dipper’s shoulder.  “Who’d have thought huh? Most unexpected couple of the year.”

Dipper chose to ignore Bill’s comments and dished out a long awaited apology instead.  “I’m really sorry for how I acted. I wasn’t thinking straight.” 

This caused Bill to snort loudly as he poked the food on his plate with a fork.  “I think we’ve already established that there’s nothing straight about you, honey.” 

“ _Bill_.”

Dipper shot him a ‘not-in-front-of-my-sister’ glare, but Bill only shrugged, failing to see how his comment could come off as embarrassing.  “What? I’m just being honest.”  

Mabel smiled at their little couple’s quarrel but didn’t comment on it - she didn’t want the details after walking in on her brother mid-sex.  Some things were better left unknown. “It’s okay, Dipper.” 

“No, it’s not.  I should’ve never said those things.  You guys came home early and I panicked…”  

She held up her hand, a sign that he didn’t need to go any further.  “Apology accepted, Dipdop. But… there’s something I need to confess, too.”  Mabel twirled the straw in her glass, pushing the ice cubes around in a circular motion.  It was suddenly difficult just to look at her brother. “I haven’t always been truthful with you.” 

“What do you mean?”  Dipper’s inquisitive brown eyes implored her to continue. 

“Last summer when I told you I was going to the movies?  I really went to a house party. I kinda… gave in to peer pressure and stuff.”  It was hard to get the words out, because she knew they’d devastate him. They remained stuck at the back of her throat, so she sipped her cola and tried again.  “I tried Ecstasy. _Too much_ Ecstasy.  They were adorable, they looked like these little rainbow candies and I just couldn’t help myself.  But I, um… I almost overdosed that night.” 

“Oh my god, Mabel — ”

“I know, I _know_... it was so stupid of me and I should’ve told you sooner.  I was just really scared. I thought I was going to die,” she curled in on herself, truly ashamed of the choices she’d made.  “I promised myself I’d never do it again and I haven’t. I won’t.” 

Dipper never expected Mabel to drop that kind of bomb on him out of the blue.  “Wow, I just…” he couldn’t even finish his sentence - there were no words. Even Bill appeared to be taken aback.  A debilitating fatigue overcame Dipper in that moment as he realized just how tired he was; how physically, emotionally, and financially drained.  Mabel’s sudden revelation topped it all off. Despite being the younger twin, he always tried to protect her, but he’d failed this time.  

“No more secrets between us.”  It was all he could manage in his current state of defeat.  They’d both made decisions that bore potentially life-altering consequences, but they’d be able to wipe the slate clean and begin again.  It was the first step to repairing the damage they’d inflicted, the heavy chains of guilt weighing them down now cast aside.      

“You got it,” Mabel said, wrapping her little finger around his in a pinky-promise - the most serious and binding of agreements.  

Twenty minutes later, as the three stood up to leave, Mabel pulled an envelope from her purse and pushed it into Dipper’s hands.  Inside was enough cash to cover a few more days of motel expenses. “Take this and think things over, okay? Call me when you’re ready to come back to the Mystery Shack.”  She pulled Bill into a hug first, and then Dipper, squeezing him tight.  

Holding Mabel was like returning home after a prolonged journey and he never wanted to be away from her again.  Thankfulness washed over him in waves. He was grateful she hadn’t given up on him, even going so far as to become his own personal advocate.  

She stepped back and regarded the pair, the happiest she’d been in weeks.  With a smile, she grasped Bill and Dipper’s hands in her own. “I just want to enjoy what’s left of our summer.  Together.”

* * *

A modicum of dread lodged itself in his chest, growing tighter with each breath.  It was like stepping onto enemy ground. Dipper was unsure of how things would pan out, regardless of Mabel’s assurance that the Grunkles had reconsidered.  Some part of him still contemplated escaping to the motel, a three-star haven where they were safe and sheltered from criticism, but their bags were already packed and they’d checked out just after eleven this morning.  There was no going back.

As Bill and Dipper reached the end of the lane, they found Mabel and the Grunkles on the front lawn, standing in an orderly row as though they were waiting to be the first to greet the royal family.  The uneasiness in his gut quadrupled with every advancing step. If it weren’t for Bill’s hand resting snugly on his lower back, Dipper was positive he would’ve bolted right out of there.  

Naturally, the person he was most worried about stepped forward first.  _Hey, kid_ \- Stan caught himself before the words had a chance to leave his throat - “Hey… Dipper.  It’s great to see you again.”    

“Hey,” Dipper echoed.  Uncertainty polluted his voice, his words bearing a slight waver.  “It’s nice to be back.” This was only a half-lie; the Mystery Shack was his second home, but the things he’d shouted in a moment of anger outweighed any feelings of joy. 

Mabel stepped in, a reliable savior in this awkward reunion.  She knew that Stan and Dipper weren’t exactly close - their opinions and personalities may have been polar opposites - but perhaps all they needed was a little push in the right direction.  She looked to Stan as she settled her palm against his forearm. “Isn’t there something you’d like to say to Dipper?” 

“Uh… well…”  Stan was stammering and clearly attempting to stall, but Mabel was having none of it.  She nudged him forward, urging him into the spotlight. He met Ford’s eyes, the elder simply nodding his encouragement.   

“Just tell him what you told us, Grunkle Stan.”

“Fine.”  He drew in a shaky breath, rubbing at his neck sheepishly.  “I, uh, messed around with some guys in my time, Dipper.”

Dipper’s brow raised, his eyes widened in surprise, but he took it with a grain of salt - anything that was uttered from the infamous Stanley Pines’s mouth was highly questionable.  “Are you just saying that, or...?”

“No, it’s true.  It wasn’t really something people talked about back then.  Not unless ya wanted to get your ass kicked.” Memories of watching his outed peers get beaten to a pulp and thrown into dumpsters, spit on and called names stayed with him to this day.  Even though there was a long way to go, he was glad the times were changing.  

“It was never our intention to ostracize you, Dipper.”  Ford came forward and embraced his young nephew. “In fact, I’m proud of both you and Stanley for exhibiting such courage.”  A combination of shock and happiness rose inside of Stan - he wasn’t sure that Ford had ever been proud of anyone except himself.  A strong pair of arms wrapped around both Ford and Dipper, as Stan yanked both of them into a group hug. “I’m proud of us, too.” 

A sudden flash redirected their attention towards Mabel, phone in hand as she snapped photos of the tender moment.  “Aww you guys! This is going in my scrapbook for sure!” Several more flashes came in quick succession, leaving discolored splotches floating in their vision. 

Normally, Stan would have retreated to defend his machismo, but instead he stayed put, trapping Dipper and Ford for a few more seconds.  “Enjoy it while it lasts, pumpkin.” When their makeshift photoshoot ended, Stan turned his attention to Bill. Dipper felt his stomach plunge as they regarded each other with unreadable expressions.  

Without warning, Stan lifted him off the ground in the goofiest display of a bear hug any of them had ever seen.  “If you thought I’d let my nephew’s boyfriend go that easily, you’re wrong.” 

Bill winced as Stan’s arms crushed his ribcage and his legs kicked helplessly through the air, desperate to be back on solid ground.  “Can’t. Breathe...” 

“That’s the point,” Stan gruffed, squeezing him harder once more for good measure.  Eventually he released Bill, who was now positive he had a bruised lung and maybe a fractured rib or two.  Chuckling, Stan clapped a hand against his shoulder goodnaturedly. “Since you’re dating Dipper now, I guess that makes you part of the family.”  In a barely audible whisper directed solely at Bill, he quickly added, “and if you hurt him I’ll return the favor, understand?” 

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Dipper said; apparently Stan hadn’t been as discreet as he’d thought. 

The elder cleared his throat and grinned at Bill.  “Good, ‘cause I just polished my brass knuckles and I’d hate to dirty ‘em up so soon.”  He poked Bill’s side which drew out a sharp hiss from the blonde who was still trying to recover from almost being smashed to death.  “So there’s one thing I wanna say yet - you can both come back here and finish out the rest of the summer, but as your uncle I’m enforcing a new rule: no sex where I eat or watch tv.” 

“Okay, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper conceded.  He came to Bill’s rescue, peeling him away from Stan with a wink.  “We’ll just do it in your bed next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go my loves! I hope to complete this story by the end of July, but we’ll have to see how it goes from here. I can't thank you enough for all of the support you've given me as I continue to develop my skills as a writer. I've got a long way to go but this fic has really helped me grow over the past few months <3


	14. Summer is Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspired by Walk the Moon’s song “Come Under the Covers”. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I listened to it during the course of writing this fanfic. The lyrics are just so fitting for a loving/domestic BillDip relationship. 
> 
> “We cannot start over, but we can begin now and make a new ending.” — Zig Ziglar

“Are they still alive in there?”

Mabel shifted fitfully as she and Stan congregated outside of the guest room her brother and his boyfriend currently occupied.  None of the Shack’s inhabitants had seen them in over 24 hours, which spurred their concern that they’d died from erotic asphyxiation or some other kinky shit. 

“Beats me,” the elder shrugged, loathe to stick his head through the door to find out.  He wasn’t about to chance setting foot down _that_ path again... not after what he’d had the displeasure of witnessing last time.  All the vodka in the world would never be enough to drown those particular memories - Stan would know - because he’d already tried to purge himself of images of Dipper getting rammed into next week.  He raked a knobby hand across his face and squeezed his eyes shut. _Fuck’s sake._ They could all use a healthy dose of legitimate therapy, and not just another of ‘Doctor Mabel’s’ stuffed animal powwows. 

Since their homecoming a handful of days prior, Bill and Dipper were spending a lot more time sleeping than any other activity.  The latter in particular was exhausted - if the dark circles that ringed his eyes were any indication - yet he was thankful all familial relationships were able to be salvaged.  

He owed Mabel _big time_.

“I’ll check,” she volunteered, rapping twice on the doorframe, but holding off on actually turning the handle until her brother gave the okay to come in.  Stan made a swift exit as he scurried back to the kitchen, simultaneously abandoning his niece and allowing her to be solely subjected to whatever horrors were waiting on the other side of that door.  Mabel poked her head in cautiously but masked any uncertainty with her chirpy demeanor. “Hey love-doves, Grunkle Stan says breakfast is ready.” 

Bill and Dipper were indeed in bed - pajama-clad and mussed hair sticking out in all directions - but thankfully they were decent this time.  Both pairs of eyes settled on the inquiring twin standing in the doorway and Dipper rose slightly, the thin bedsheet pooling in his lap as he acknowledged Mabel with bleary cognizance. “Give us fifteen and then we’ll be down.”

“Okie doke, but don’t take too long; Grunkle Stan’ll be a grumpy-pants if you skip out on breakfast.”  She closed the door with a wink and meandered downstairs to relay the message, each footfall pulling squealing creaks from the loose wooden treads.  Poking her head into the kitchen, Mabel repeated Dipper’s words verbatim and then bounded into the dining room to claim her spot at the table. 

From where he was perched at the stove, Stan called out, “fine, but it ain’t my fault if their food gets cold!”

“Isn’t,” Ford interjected loudly from the dining room as he skimmed over the morning paper.  Stan had already nabbed the comics section for himself, keen to find out what sort of antics his spirit animal, Garfield, was wrapped up in this time.

“Isn’t what?” came Stan’s reply from the adjoining room.  Ford’s correction sailed so far over his head that the U.S. government deemed it an unidentified flying object. 

Ford gave a slight shake of his head and flipped over to the next page, the ink-stamped paper crinkling loudly as he moved onto an article about the current state of the economy.  His brother could be extremely thick at times... not that it was a new observation; ever since they were children, Stan’s obliviousness often got them into unfavorable situations. The older twin wondered whether it was a blessing or a curse to be so heedlessly ignorant.  “Never mind, Stanley.” Grammar lessons could wait for another day.

True to their word, Bill and Dipper appeared in the dining room with a minute to spare, clad in freshly-laundered clothing, hair brushed through but still slightly tangled.  Bill pulled a vacant chair from the table, its battered legs groaning as they scraped across the floor. He sidled up next to Dipper, smoothing his palm over the teen’s back through the fabric of his shirt. They exchanged a furtive glance, the blonde’s eyes trailing downward to linger on a particularly dark hickey lining Dipper’s jaw with unabashed pride.  How else would the world know that the boy was his?  

Dipper looked around the dining room, finding that Ford was engrossed with the national news, and Mabel was pounding out a novel-length group text to her friends.  Both heads were tilted downwards as their eyes flitted over the printed and digital words, too preoccupied to notice their surroundings. Seeing as they were distracted and Bill was already invading his personal space, Dipper closed the gap between them with a series of fluttery kisses that gradually deepened into something far more passionate (and arguably inappropriate for the time and place).  Clearly, they’d gotten used to being secluded from prying eyes over the course of their motel stay.  

At that moment, Stan entered through the archway, carrying a frying pan in one hand and a spatula in the other.  A red apron, one size too small, was draped across his neck and beer belly and knotted around his back. “Hey,” he barked sternly, forcing Dipper and Bill to break the kiss, “no makin’ out at the table.”  All eyes were suddenly trained on the pair as Stan called them out.  

Dipper retreated, the slightest bit of embarrassment in his voice as he spoke.  “You never said anything about _kissing_ , Grunkle Stan.”  He rubbed slow circles along Bill’s thigh beneath the table and shrugged his shoulders.  

“Yeah, I recall it being strictly no sex,” Bill added with a wink. 

Stan frowned at the clever loophole they’d stumbled across and eyed them suspiciously.  “Hands where I can see ‘em, Dipper, and don’t either of you give me lip. Just eat and then you can go do whatever it is you two get up to in your room.”  He pushed the remainder of the scrambled eggs onto his plate and banished the pervasive thoughts from his mind before they really had a chance to settle in.  With a feigned cough, he cleared his throat. “Anyways, breakfast is served.”

It was actually closer to brunch, given the time of day, but the technicality went ignored by all parties as they indulged in the gracious meal Stan had prepared.  It had become a sort of tradition the morning prior to their departure, because (as much as they hated to acknowledge it) this time tomorrow Dipper and Mabel would be well into their journey home.  Summer would officially end the moment they crossed the Oregon-California border, replaced with preparations for the fall semester. Just across that threshold, term papers, student loans, and copious amounts of stress awaited the twins.  Dipper had a hard time placing it, but deep within he could feel things beginning to shift, changes taking hold along with the transitioning seasons. 

* * *

An unspoken sadness lingered in the air, its oppressive weight settling over the Pines twins as they sat cross-legged on the living room floor.  Clue was spread out between them, the siblings playing the board game with marked disinterest. Bill had declined to join them, leaving Dipper and Mabel by themselves.  “Real murder’s more fun,” he’d chuckled before disappearing from the room. 

“Was it Colonel Mustard with the wrench in the library?”

Mabel shuffled through her cards before holding up Colonel Mustard’s portrait and subsequently clearing him of Dipper’s accusation.  She tucked the card back into her hand and rolled the die, six black dots indicating the number of spaces she could move her token.   

As Mabel took her turn, Dipper’s attention drifted to the window.  The rain had picked up an hour ago, tiny droplets tapping a gentle melody against the pane.  It was a suitable (if somewhat cliché) confirmation of the emotions they were both experiencing, reluctantly soaking in the knowledge that this would be the last night they’d spend in Gravity Falls for quite some time. 

Both were snapped from the melancholic thoughts as a familiar voice called out from down the hallway.  “Hey, Dipper and Mabel, can you come help with somethin’ real quick?”

“Be right there, Grunkle Stan!” they called in unison, and then exchanged a goofy look because it seemed like forever since they were on the same brainwave.  It was in these small moments that Dipper and Mabel felt the bond between them strengthen. 

Before they exited the room, Dipper picked up the confidential envelope in the center of the board.  He yanked the three cards out that were concealed inside to reveal the killer. Neither had been remotely close enough to field a final guess, and his patience had run out anyway.  “Professor Plum, revolver, ballroom.” He flashed the cards at Mabel before casting them aside. “Let’s go see what Grunkle Stan wants this time.”

It took a moment to locate their uncle, but eventually they found him in the kitchen with Bill and Ford, the room darkened save for two tiny, flickering lights.  In the center of the table sat a small round cake with numbered candles, “19” maintaining its molded wax form beneath the unrelenting flames. Although barely visible, Dipper and Mabel could see swirls of pink and blue icing extending across a white buttercream background.  The message scrawled along the surface in an elegant, curling font simply read: ‘ _Happy B-day Dipper & Mabel!’  _

“We realize your birthday isn’t for a few more days, but this year we won’t have the opportunity to celebrate on the 31st,” Ford clarified. 

“‘Sides, we didn’t think ya’d mind having cake a few days early,” Stan said with a wink.  He made a gesture and the room was filled with a rousing chorus. “ _Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…_ C’mon Bill, sing with us!”  At Stan’s urging, the blonde chimed in.  “ _Happy birthday dear Mabel-and-Dipper, happy birthday to youuu~_ ”

When the serenade had finally ended, Stan clapped his hands on the twins’ shoulders and steered them towards the table.  “Okay you two,” he nodded. “Time to make a wish.”

Mabel blew out the “1” almost instantly, but Dipper paused for a minute to think before he finally leaned close to the “9” and exhaled sharply.  The flame dodged to the left before extinguishing completely, leaving behind a smoky wisp trailing through the air. 

Ford flicked the lights on, causing everyone to squint beneath the harsh blast of 100 watts to the cornea.  After a moment, the Grunkles began moving about to dig through the cabinets for the necessary utensils, and Mabel drug a finger through the bottom border of the cake, surreptitiously gathering frosting on her finger and licking it up before anyone had the chance to notice what she’d done. 

“So, what was your wish?” Bill inquired softly, wrapping himself around Dipper as he stood behind the teen.  He propped his head on Dipper’s shoulder and watched as Stan used an outlandishly large knife to cut through the decadent layers. 

“I can’t tell you,” Dipper smirked.  He placed his hands over the forearms settled against his chest.  “Because if I did, it wouldn’t come true.” Despite the vague statement, Bill had a good idea of what the teen had wished for.  He tipped his head and gingerly kissed Dipper’s temple, a gentle display of affection that may have gone unnoticed by the Grunkles, but not by Mabel. 

They disentangled themselves to accept the plates of sliced cake and plastic forks that Ford offered them and reveled in the sweet birthday bliss. 

* * *

As the evening crept on, Dipper found himself in Bill’s room, flitting around as he gathered miscellaneous items strewn about to tuck into his suitcase.  They’d be leaving with more than they came with, unmistakable given the way his luggage bulged and the zipper refused to bind the opposing rows of teeth until it was forcefully persuaded.  Dipper exhaled a small sound of victory after struggling to close the lid and sat down on the end of the mattress to take a short breather.

Bill wandered into the space, having excused himself to the bathroom moments prior, but hung back in the doorframe for a moment.  When Dipper finally looked in his direction, Bill moved towards the bed, grinning slyly. “Y’know, I haven’t given you your gift yet.”  He crowded Dipper back against the pillows and settled over him like a storm cloud, dark and electrifying. Much like a tempest, the sight of lust-muddled eyes and ghostlike caresses against Dipper’s cheek never failed to make him tremble in anticipation. 

As enticing as the invitation was, the more reasonable side of Dipper’s brain kicked in.  There were still a _lot_ of preparations to see to before slipping into bed for the night even presented itself as a viable option.  Muttering apologetically, he gently pushed Bill backwards and requested a rain check on the sex. 

“Oh, come _on,_ Pine Tree.”  Bill Cipher did not give up on his pursuits so easily, regardless of how elusive they were - something Dipper should’ve known by now.  He purred against his lover’s ear, beckoning the inevitable collapse of Dipper’s self-control. “Just once more... for old time’s sake?”

“Bill... we have to finish packing up...” Dipper chided, though his argument had weakened slightly underneath the insistent breath at his ear and the nipping kisses that accompanied it.  Ignoring the blonde for a second, his mocha-colored eyes trailed across the room, mentally cataloguing the few items that were theirs so nothing would get left behind.  

 _Theirs_.  Warmth flooded through his veins, a feeling the brunette couldn’t quite place suddenly washing over him.  Pride perhaps, or violent elation; whatever it was left him punch-drunk and giddy as he finally leaned into the touches and regarded his boyfriend with a softening countenance.   

 “Okay, _fine_ ,” Dipper caved, an amused laugh trickling past his lips at how quickly Bill grabbed the bottle of lubricant from the top drawer of the nightstand.  Dipper leaned up, arms nestling around Bill’s neck as he pulled the blonde down for a kiss. “But only because you’re cute. Go make sure the door’s locked first.  Then you can give me my birthday present.”

“Oh, with pleasure, darling.”  A wicked grin, then Bill peeled himself from Dipper and pecked a kiss against his cheek.  “With _pleasure_.”

* * *

Dawn inevitably arrived as it always did, much to Mabel and Dipper’s dismay.  In the brisk morning air, they huddled together on the front porch alongside Wendy, Soos, and Melody, who’d all gathered to say their goodbyes as Ford and Stan prepared the car.  Yesterday’s sadness was amplified tenfold now that the time for their departure had arrived. Bags were packed, and the attic was once again devoid of vitality and laughter, resuming its role as a place to store holiday decorations and amass filmy cobwebs. 

There would be no more summers spent exploring the vast Oregon wilderness, no more childlike freedom or quirky townsfolk or mysteries to uncover.  

No more Gravity Falls. 

At least, not for a while. 

“I always hate this part.”  Wendy was the first to break the silence, a frown tugging the corners of her mouth as she tried to fight the onset of tears prickling her eyes.  She wasn’t a crier - never had been - she was always tough and strong and invincible, just like her father raised all of his children. But somehow this time felt different.  _Get it together - it’s not like you’re never gonna ‘em again_.  Her feeble self-assurance helped in a way, and she drew the twins in for a hug.  “Promise you’ll visit on breaks?”   

“We’ll do the best we can,” Dipper said, he and Mabel relaxing against Wendy’s trademark green flannel as her wild red hair tickled their cheeks and noses. 

“Good.  Don’t either of you forget about your second family while you’re putting those brains of yours to good use.  And when you two graduate, we’re gonna be there - I’ll drag everyone down to California myself if I have to.”  Wendy was smiling now, but the tears had broken free despite her best efforts to contain them. Wet rivulets leaked onto Mabel and Dipper’s shirts and she quickly wiped her eyes.  Like _hell_ she was going to let Stan catch her in a moment of weakness; he’d never let her live it down.  

With a pat to the back, she urged Dipper and Mabel towards Soos and Melody, the couple standing by and watching the exchange with halfhearted smiles.  “Don’t let me suck up all of the time you have left. Go say goodbye.” 

As the twins farewelled Soos and Melody, Wendy turned towards the silent figure that was watching the scene unfold.  In her wildest dreams, she never could’ve imagined Bill Cipher would reappear in their lives this summer. Especially _not_ like this.  They hadn’t just been thrown for a loop, but a double or even triple helix which left them all with a lingering case of whiplash and perspectives that hadn’t existed back when they’d been eager to kick his triangular ass.  With outstretched arms, she motioned him forward. “C’mon Bill - hug me, bro.” 

He decided to oblige her, the faintest hint of a smile making itself known.  If it hadn’t been for Wendy convincing Stan and Ford to reconsider, they wouldn’t all be parting on such good terms right now.  She and Mabel had chosen to fight for the relationship between himself and Dipper when it would’ve been easier to condemn them to a life of transience and hardship.

Wendy exhaled long and deep before whispering one last thing in Bill’s ear.  “Be good to him.” And while he may not have realized it at the moment, her words would flood back to him in the following years, during nights when sleep simply wouldn’t come, or while they cuddled on the sofa watching reruns of an old television show, or in the post-argument silence when he and Dipper weren’t on speaking terms.  

_Be good to him._

The trunk was finally slammed shut after a great deal of effort trying to wrestle Sir Hugginsby into the overly-crammed space.  Stan rounded the car to stand at the driver’s side door and Ford paralleled him on the passenger side, the elders waiting expectantly for Dipper and Mabel to join them.  “You kids ready?” Stan inquired, then immediately shook his head as he realized his slip-up. “Uh, sorry. I’m still not used to ya being all grown up now.” He could still picture them that first year: barely waist-high with bright eager eyes and innocent as ever.

“It’s okay, Grunkle Stan,” Mabel beamed. 

“Good, ‘cause you’ll always be my kids, even if, ya know, you’re not actually _mine_ or whatever...” The statement was indirectly endearing, even if Stan hadn’t recognized the importance of the words as they were blurted out.  They meant more to the twins than he would ever know.  

Once Dipper and Mabel had descended the steps, they turned to take one more mental snapshot of the loved ones that would be left behind. 

“Remember dudes, we’re just a phone call away.” 

“Or a video chat,” Wendy added.  “I can teach the Grunkles how to use FaceTime or Skype if you want.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stan was speaking, addressing Dipper and Mabel directly again.  “I hate to cut this short, but you two got a bus to catch.”  

“ _Have_ a bus to catch,” Ford corrected.  He was met with an eye roll from his younger brother, who was an honest to God lost cause when it came to proper sentence structure, or any other intellectual pursuits for that matter. 

It still didn’t stop Ford from trying though. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what I said.”  Stan slid into the driver’s seat and cranked the ignition, which in turn spurred the powerful engine to life.  Mabel, Bill, and Dipper piled into the back seat, in the same order they’d been after the carnival when Dipper kissed Bill and set the whole ridiculous series of events into motion. 

Stan expertly navigated the vehicle through the spacious parking lot and onto the stretch of road that led into town.  Reflected in the rear view mirror were the forms of their friends, obscured by the dust that was stirred beneath the wheels of the classic car.  All three backseat passengers watched as the waving figures shrank until disappearing completely within the cloudy haze. 

As they drove to the bus stop, Ford dialed the radio to an oldies station as a way of stifling the sadness that would eventually consume himself and Stan when they returned home sans niece and nephew.  A chart topper from 1971 offered a numbing distraction as it played through the speakers.  

Out of the corner of his vision, Dipper caught movement on his left side.  He watched as Mabel shoved a hand into her purse, digging around until she found what she’d been looking for.  With freshly-polished nails, she unfolded a pale-blue sheet of stationary that Dipper recognized as the bucket list she’d touted since June.  Every single box was checked off aside from the very last one, the blank square taunting the twins with its absent graphite ‘X’. 

Dipper offered a sympathetic look and kept his voice low so as not to compete with the music that was currently streaming from the dashboard.  “Sorry the whole summer romance thing didn’t pan out for you.”

“Well...”  He was left puzzled as Mabel checked off the last item using a wooden pencil capped with a worn-down eraser.  “I may not have found romance this summer, but _you_ did.”  She nodded towards Dipper and Bill, whose hands were interwoven without either realizing it.  “And since we shared a womb, it _totally_ counts.”

He chuckled lightly along with his sister until their laughter dissolved into soft smiles.  It was funny how he and Mabel had been so reluctant that first summer, petitioning their parents to have mercy and spare them three months in a smelly old cabin with a smelly old uncle.  Both had eventually grown on them to the point where the last weeks of every school year were a total blur as Dipper and Mabel anticipated returning to the town they loved so much. At age twelve, their lives changed forever, and now at nineteen they were changing again. 

Two songs later, the El Diablo slowed and pulled off the road onto the unpaved shoulder as they arrived at the designated stop and Stan shifted the car into park. All passengers exited, the Grunkles pulling the teens’ suitcases and other belongings from the back.  Stan had just yanked out the last item - Mabel’s massive pink teddy bear - when the bus pulled around a bend and quickly came to a halt. 

The twins had just enough time for one last round of hugs before the door slid open to an older woman greeting them from behind the wheel. 

Dipper paused at the opening, clutching the handle of his suitcase while his other hand fidgeted along the strap of the bag he shouldered.  He eyed his boyfriend carefully, suddenly feeling like all of his saliva evaporated and his tongue turned to ash. “Are you...?” It was left dangling, the idling bus engine padding the gap between Dipper’s uncertainty and Bill’s response.

“What? Coming along? Nah, I figured I’d stay here and annoy the hell out of Stan and Fordsy until you’re finished with college.”  Dipper felt his heart thud and his stomach sink all at once - was he really going to leave him like that and throw away everything they had fought for?  Upon noticing the disheartened look on his face, Bill laughed heartily and snagged Dipper’s hand, a reassuring squeeze giving away his sarcasm. “Of _course_ I’m coming with you, Pine Tree.  Did you really think I’d go anywhere else?”

“I was hoping you would.”  Dipper’s relief was short-lived as the bitter realization struck that they would have to closet themselves again.  “My parents won’t approve of us.” They may’ve gotten lucky with the Grunkles, but Mr. and Mrs. Pines held staunch beliefs that would not be so easily shaken.  

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Bill winked.

“And we will both be here for support if you need us,” Ford said, motioning to Stan with a nod.

“Yeah, even if we have ta use that ‘Snipe’ thing or whatever Wendy called it.”

It was Mabel’s turn to correct him this time, amusement unfettered while she cradled Hugginsby beneath her arms.  “ _Skype_ , Grunkle Stan.”

“Eh, tomayto tomahto - same difference.”

The bus driver was beginning to lose patience the longer they dawdled, her sidelong glances turning sour and pissy.  Stan shot back a glare and she nervously shifted her eyes toward something else, desperate to avoid the wrath of Mr. Stanley Pines.  

“Go on, all of ya.”  He pushed the three towards the short flight of steps - the final barrier separating present and future.  The time had finally come. “Make me ‘n Sixer proud.”

They ascended the stairs, wandering down the narrow aisle without sparing the driver a second glance.  Mabel sat closer to the front, settling into a seat with her teddy and a road trip playlist to keep her company.  Traffic notwithstanding, the bus would arrive home just in time for dinner with their parents and the ‘friend’ they’d dragged along.  At least, that’s how they’d initially introduce him. 

Dipper slid into a seat a few rows behind Mabel, safely nestled between the window and Bill.  He peered out at Stan and Ford who were waving them off and returned the gesture as the doors slid shut and the bus pulled off down the road.  Dipper watched as the world once again sped by in a torrent of color and leaned his head back against Bill’s chest. 

They’d come full circle and he couldn’t be happier. 

* * *

_Can we start over?_

_Can we be strangers again?_

_Let me introduce myself_

_We can laugh and talk_

_And relearn what we already know_

_And come up with new inside jokes_

_And create new memories_

_And give each other_

_a second chance._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s all she wrote. 
> 
> Poem at the end isn’t mine but it’s one of many things that inspired this story. 
> 
> The sequel to this piece is now posted! You can find it by clicking on my username or using the button below to go to the next work in this series.
> 
> All of your constant kind words and encouragement have meant the world to me <3


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